10/6/1536
The day was cool and still with little breeze
to waft the incense of his purity
to God. His stench....his smoldering release
clung to the Earth. His foul soul set free.
You should have seen his blossom in the air.
His burst of brilliance was a revelry
of smoke and dancing flame. Such glorious fare!
Such pop and sizzle sagging on the stake
to hang, to sear with blazing wondrous flare.
His love of God had stained his heart to make
him but the victim of his own despoil.
He burned! He burned! with apostatic ache.
Now gather up the ashes of his toil.
We'll let the plow-boy turn him to the soil.