Prophet of the Flame

Prophet of the Flame

Beneath the stars where silence clings,
I hear the pull of ancient strings.
The past still speaks, the future moans,
Through fractured light and broken bones.

You knock on fate’s forgotten door—
But do you know what you came for?

I am the prophet of the flame,
I call the winds, I name the name.
I see the path before it’s made,
The blade before the vow is laid.
Ask me once, then walk alone—
What’s given turns to ash and stone.

The child cries before it’s born,
The rose still bleeds without the thorn.
Your shadow stands in twin disguise,
One tells the truth, one always lies.

The hour breaks, the veil is thin—
Do you seek out or look within?

I am the prophet of the flame,
I play the stars like sacred game.
The truth you crave may split your soul,
Not all who search return whole.
Ask me once, then walk alone—
My words are seed, but not your own.

There is no curse but what you choose.
There is no fate you cannot lose.
But when you see what lies ahead,
Remember: some are better dead...

I am the prophet of the flame,
The voice that none can bind or tame.
I’ll show the road, but not the end—
The fire is truth, not foe or friend.
So ask me now, then hold your breath—
The Oracle speaks… and dances with death.