I was standin' outside my son's karate class
Lost in my mind, the sky was overcast
A force behind me, forced me to move
Two-tiered face, poof, and cut to
A man beside me making his way through
His slacks and t-shirt both faded gray/blue
Had a once refined Hannibal Lector face
He Glanced at me and looked away
Then back, "Your son take classes here?"
Now he said son, not kid, you hear
When I said "Yes," he said "What style?"
I said a mix, but he should ask inside
Leaned in, looked, stopped seemed to sigh
Shook his head, and then replied
"It's great your son takes self-defense"
He creeped me out more than a little bit
He asked me if I took classes too
I told him "No," but back when used to
Take Jeet Kun Do, Wing Chung Kung Fu
He said he doubted what I took was true
Then out 'a nowhere, he performed a move
Way beyond anything that I knew
Swirling arm trails defying law
Egyptian Magician Bibl-i-cal
He finished with his big bicep flexed
Looked like my first teacher, read-y set
Expanding ripples of orange and green
Encircled me with mean feelings
I could feel his secret murderous intent
And I wished him that same consequence
My next thought, Attack, no, flee!
Yet I stood there without moving
He praised the Chinese Imperial Guard
I think for their expertise in martial arts
Then he caught himself, stopped inexplicably
For an instant, looked worried
He shrugged and motioned for my arm
He acted like I knew what was going on
I didn't know what he had in mind...
But I gave him my arm without askin' why
He jerked my arm forward in such a way...
That it made a space where my shoulder rotates
My forearm upward, his trimmed claw slid
Purposefully across my skin
He Stressed my arm so I no doubt knew
That he could tear my arm off if he wanted to
He wheeled his arm too fast to see
His elbow touchin' mine...so gently
A knowing nod as our elbows met
His face was then like Baph-o-met
A glowing bronze that faded out
The Same time my son's class let out
His grip released as I ducked inside
Got my son and looked behind
Nothing so we went outside
No hint of Him, just dim sunlight
He could have been another California nut
It's just not who that I think he was
I heard he was seen in a Chrysler LeBaron
He touched me on the sidewalk standin'
I felt inhabited, my wits were getting thin
Was this like that movie Fallen?
Did he somehow gain control of me?
I looked at my life and saw a theme
It was present in the things I owned
Cryptic designs, red workout clothes
A blood red office with old world vibe
And guess the color of the car I drive
My Last Supper print is not quite right
It's floor is a checkered black and white
Corrupted crosses and the like
That same handprint throughout my life
That's when a new thought came to me
That maybe the meeting was a veiled blessing
Maybe he was ordered to set me free?
That the meeting was supposed to * make me see
I know others have had such meetings
Then lived grand lives of deprav-it-y
Nobody knows... but it could be...That
They may have misread the true meaning
Who controls both damned and saved?
Who's secret goal is to degrade?
What if our Earthly end is near?
Will it be less than God you fear?