It is strange, how two opposites merge together,
Burning fire and chilling ice, neither better,
For I feel them both in pain.
As I lay on the floor, myself slain.
My blood boils,
While the icy grip of death around me coils.
I hear you run to me,
And recall that memory.
At the market, you had pursued me,
Leading me to think that a follower of my brother you must be.
I had drawn my arm, yet you had told me you'd meant no harm.
You were hard for me to understand,
So I told you to give me your hand.
Though your touch was that of snow,
I felt the warmth of a fire's glow.
As fire's comforting embrace draws one in,
I felt my love for you begin.
Ironic how I'd intended to harm you with my knife,
When it in fact had taken my own life.
I feel your cold touch on me,
Though warm it shall always be.
Unspoken words you wanted to say,
To me on my final day.
I wanted to feel,
To help you heal.
Through our icy hands,
Burns a fire to overtake all lands.
I whisper at the beauty of your gift,
As my soul begins to lift.
Abraham, you shall never be alone,
So long as fire burns within cold stone.