I never thought it true
The gentle embers there within
had ever longed to burn
But every inch of battlefield
has piled on the fuel
Like branches of brittle pine
Like shattered bones of muddy war
My modest coals at first denied
The inferno waiting to burst
Smouldering under too much wood
Whispering desperate calls of smoke
But bitter wind and hopeless hell
encouraged thoughtless rage
which lifted into shining hope
and grows to righteous chivalry
And now these flames of passion
Consume my flesh and bone
I do not feel such mortal pain
Heaven in my heart and soul
So when I am ash
Floating on the breeze
I will coat the dry world
and light it all aflame
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