Statue

Etched

Chiselled

It beckons to be admired

Lest we forget

What comes refined

Was once not

A rock to become a statue must be hit

Measured

Angled

Tethered

Tied

Beaten until hands sigh

There it stands

Pillar strong

Roots grounded

Night sky beauty

Mathematically sharp

There the measured man stands

It chariots the eyes of those who behold

A wrestle between ripples of ocean

And ripples of his back began to fight

What allures more

The architecture of man

Bleeds further than the symbols of its face

It holds more than what hands depict

We must always go back to the rock

To understand how the symbol was built

What would the beholder’s eyes do

If they were to see the statue’s eyes cry

Would the muscles become soft

How could a rock seem so unstable

How could a rock bleed

A note to mind:

Rocks and blood blend as a peach

Ripples in water and back are alike

Hands that hold were also used to reach

For this is why statues lasso our sight