Pyres

Pyres of the dead are the saddest.
Dead bodies make the loudest accusations.
Against murderers, cowards,
Depression.
A cigarette is lit,
A temporary tombstone.
The corpses I see are not real,
The corpses I see become smoke
At the end of a fog.
People die, things die, memories and thoughts
Die,
And these pyres, in death, ignite
A possibility for a tired life.