• I.
    I'm not afraid of burning if I live to tell the tale.
    Heretic though I may be, if yet my life stirs on,
    I can be the happy man,
    Who whittles in the darkness of a Lincoln-logged chamber
    Or brews a stew of carrots for his children, still unborn.
    A simple life though it may seem, it is for this life I yearn.

    II.
    I dread the day my body burns, but death I never fear.
    The martyr snatches subjects even from his ground-hog grave,
    But the witch snares no one in her clutch of damnation.
    Angels revere heroes; devils worship hate.
    I have played the hero.
    When out the candle blows, my flame will yet live on.