And it all comes in ash and cinder

Here I rested, or was it there?
Sitting so blissfully, unaware.
My master had left, or had I stayed, behind?
The fire-watcher was in his tire, and in his absence, did a spark light after he resigned?
Then I was awoken by a bright gleam,
or perhaps was it a terrible scream, that woke me in the night?
There was the smell of a burning flesh, and was that ash, inhaled within my breast?
I lost my self as the  manor smoked, and I sat, in baptismal fire soaked
Did I sing, or was it She, belting from the rhine?
No,she sat there, weeping, at the throne of my master, the last memento, of a now ancient shrine.
"Ashes, Ashes, We All Burn Down"
                                    -Ode to Zeraph