The Observer

I am the Observer
I once again took a stroll outside my Temple
To watch the destruction unfold anew
Its limestone columns tore at itself
As if compelled towards self-destruction
And believe it would make itself into
What it doesn’t appear to have ever known
Whole, I think it wants
To be smooth for priestess’ touch
Should it ever receive such a blessing

I returned into my Temple shortly
Standing silent, I saw loss in form
Fell, and wept
Have you ever seen stone bleed?
It’s quite a sight
That I, the Observer, shall never share

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