The Fire Walker

I am the dark side grace;
I am the last long embrace:
the smile that wipes that smile off your face.
I am the doer, not the talker.
I am the fire walker.

I was born, under a blood moon,

at one second past high noon,
on a dark and stormy night,
in the coldest winter to date,
a child of fearsome fate --
Born, to love, and knowing love, to hate.
Born, early; I could no longer wait.
Born, early, to tell you: you are late.

Born, the last page of the book
you never got around to reading.
Born, the warning you shook,
and never got around to heeding.
Born, the chance you took --
the chance you never should not have taken --
born, the vengeance of mercy forsaken:
the judgment that slumbered, awakened.
Friend, you are fond of debating;
I was born to end debate,
and I'm here to clear my books.
You stand, on the road, a crook;
I was born to make straight.

I was born to smash the locks,
and deliver captives from their stocks.
Born: to heal the one who heals;
to slay the one who kills;
to smite the wolf who wills
to prey upon the flock.
Born, to stand stern, like a rock:
to keep time, like a clock --
until the world again grows still,
or, perchance, unto until,
I fall upon the field.
Born, to die until you die, and I am living still.

I am the dark side grace;
I am the last long embrace:
the smile that wipes that smile off your face.
I stalk the night stalker.
I am the fire walker,
the doer – not the talker.
The time for talking has passed.
I am the question you asked.

I was the past, the present, and future;
you are the cut, and I am the suture.
I was the deed, and the doer;
the distance you cannot endure;
the promise, awaited, made sure.
You are the muddled refrain
who binds words into shackles insane;
I am the definition of words made vague,
the clarity; the meaning made plain.
I am the man who plagues the plague,
and the man who finds the cure.
You hoped I was myth; hoped, in vain;
I have come to purify the pure,
and you, my friend, are the stain.

I have thought about you;
I advise you, my friend, to think about me.
Whatsoever you see, I foresee;
wheresover you go, there I'll be.
I have thought about you;
you dismissed me, again and again,
as rumor, a distant whisper in the wind.
I have thought about you, friend.
You should think about me;
you should think about your end.

I am the doer, not the talker.
I stalk the night stalker;
I am the fire walker,
and whereso I walk, the fire falters;
you dreamed, in your dream was a vision:
I am that shadow you hold in derision

The time for talking has passed.
I am the question you asked.
I came, not to talk, but to do;
I came, and I'm coming; I'm coming for you.