It was a hurting tune, resigned, a cry of heartache for all in the world that fell apart. As ash rose black against the brilliant sky, Fire's fiddle cried out for the dead, and for the living who stay behind to say goodbye.

When Brocker arrived he took her hands and held them to his face and cried into them.

While I was looking the other way your fire went out
Left me with cinders to kick into dust
What a waste of the wonder you were
In my living fire I will keep your scorn and mine
In my living fire I will keep your heartache and mine
At the disgrace of a waste of a life

Waste is Criminal.

She wanted to cause him pain for taking a place in her heart she wouldn't have given him if she'd known the truth.

How unjust then to meet that person you love, and be kept away from them only because ones bed is made of hay , and the other, feathers.