Today, he had died.
One of them; those who set up the stake she burnt at.
He, had died. He who had added logs to the fire she burnt in. Yet, she had gone for his funeral.
Gone to shed tears for him.
He who had stood afar watching , making small talk and loud gossip of her miserable predicament.
All the while she burnt. He just, saw. Never felt. Today, she had gone to feel sorry for him.
He who had not cared if she lost her dignity, her life or her all.
She was there to feel a loss of him.
He who she had expected to smother the flames. The flames in which they cremated her alive.
In flesh and bone.
In sanity and trust.
In love.
In all. All in the name of God.
Yet, she was there by his deathbed, to make a prayer for him.
He who had propagated her a God-less woman.
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