O Fire

O Fire
by
Bobby Derie

O fire, five drops of blood I give to thee,
Five drops for five lives,
The lives of five men.

One crimson drop I give for he who stole my book,
The shadow among shadows,
The grasping hand,
Bane of libraries.

One I give for he who hired him,
The false face of friendship,
The seeking eyes in my house,
The opening purse-strings in the dark.

One I give for he who bought it,
Greed-crazed, gold-fingered,
Stinking of trade,
Who sought wisdom with coin.

One I give for he who copied it,
For it was not his lore to share,
Faithful scribe,
You erred in this illicit scroll.

And the last drop of blood I shed for myself,
For I am bereft,
Though I call fire on my enemies,
Fire cannot return my book to me.

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