Homecoming

A trail of smoke rose from a pyre,
The fallen Master’s men stood silent in fear,
And those wise among them,
Knew there was no escaping his ire.

The smoke kept rising above the flame,
Little by little, the Master left his earthly domain,
But his men in morbid fear of their imminent pain,
Lay suffering in their self induced stream of guilt and shame.

A sudden chuckle burst into the eternal void,
It ceased to exist the moment it was conceived,
No being or form claimed responsibility for this minor feat,
For it came from the fallen Master himself who could no longer be perceived.

He laughed not at his men,
But at the insignificance of it all.
He felt no loss, no grief nor pain,
For all that he left behind were nothing more than grain.
He laughed at the fragment of life that had once imprisoned him,
Of temporal feelings that had chained his soul within.

“Fear not thou foolish men”,
Was how his message to his men began,
“I want neither thy blood nor thy hushed breath,
And thy can rule thy dying Earth for all of eternity,
But let it be known that it no longer matters to me.
All my precious stones and all that gaudy gold,
For which I killed many a men and pillaged many abodes,
Thy can keep without written authority,
For it is now time for me to head back home,
And cleanse my desecrated soul from the soil which thy Earth bequeathed upon me.”