New poem

Kudos to Impulse for feedback and advice.

The fire waits as I think back
On all the wrongs I've done,
But when I die the horror will
Have only just begun.

The fire wakes, my bonds are fast,
And now the pain begins
Although I have yet to commit
The foulest of my sins.

The fire climbs; my legs have gone.
My screaming cuts the air
Half in my pain, and half in threat.
I know they do not care.

The fire takes, and darkness looms.
They cheer to see me die.
They do not know I'll rise again;
Much less do they know why.

The fire fades, but certain deals
Unnaturally made
Will never so: for unlife my
Immortal soul I trade.

The fire dies. To ash I fall.
My mortal shell is spent..
I've proven my refusal to
Surrender or repent.

The fire sleeps, but ashes stir
As I rise from my grave
Prepared to kill a world no
Amount of prayer can save.

The fire hides, its victim dead.
Soon both come back for more.
My touch upon the mind will drive
The human race to war.

The fire bursts in bombs and shots
As armies clash with hate.
My spectral guidance slowly leads
The world to its fate.

The fire lives, not just in flames,
But in the beating hearts
Of those whom I infect with rage
To tear the world apart.