Sean Winslow Poet I do not know?

A Stranger Dismayed

In the distance
A stranger sees the smoke.
His attention is heavily veiled
overburdened under an obsessive cloak.

a shrug to forget
Unable to shed his curiosity
his focus exiled within
this animosity

A few goodbyes
departing his tent now
with only a tiring pace
his lust for truth made avow

Forever he runs
until the sun begins to set
it's too late to falter
still closer he gets

The sky a distant gray
tempted by the aftermath
the remnant of a blaze
suffering twisted wrath

His breathe seized
arms begin to shake
about to lose himself
in more than he can take

Amongst the burnt logs
The ashes dispersed
a simple gesture
a sight most perverse

Sorrow overtaken
perplexed to the edge
a whimper away from
transcending the ledge

Covered in ash
scarred beyond recognition
someones everything
someones simple proposition

This innocent bystander
Overcome by defeat
driven to madness
As he hears its last beat

There, burned at the stake
A tragedy galore
His trust, his love
His very core

This man witnessing the
demise of my black art
the source of curiosity abroad
My charred, fractured heart.

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