Resolved
You may think me stubborn —
a cold fortress of impervious stone
my sculpted edges too rough;
an immovable image
carved not of my choosing —
seeing all, seeing none.
Time passes me,
the world turns on,
but how can I complain?
I am the solid watchman —
nonplussed in my steadfastness,
unphased by the harshest of storms;
immovable til the end.
A frozen stone’s quiet life
shields all risk.
And seldom do those
who are silent make mistakes.
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