Seated by the gallery,
looking out into the star light.

Wishing to relive a tragedy,
the loss of a soul, this very night.

Hanging on the wall, a faded print,
memories of the past.

A certain scar that will never heal,
as then a lit match was cast.

If it was a dream,
we would have awoken.

But, now all I remember are his screams,
like a curse from a fallen totem.

Why must we burn,
for we never did sin.

As the flames turn to ashes,
I had to bury my own kin...