Before God at the trial by fire,
To jury lowered shoulders and head,
For mercy is what was longed for,
But smite rendered sentence instead.

At the trial by fire was wondered,
How could it be if it were not this way?
Is there not irreverence in fanning of embers,
When all consuming the doom passed each day?

Questions raised at the trial by fire
Filled the air with a foul stench of fate.
No objection was entertained.
Logic only entered as hate.

Nothing gained by trials by fire,
Enmity in wake leaves subtle a scorch.
Unto ignition, the righteous toss water:
Seldom few hold up a torch.