The stone

It is it who is in between,

Chaos and war like nothing to be seen

Where does it face and take a stance?

What if he does and understand?

They come, roaring and in packs,

To destroy whatever lefts

The grass turns brown and eerie,

Non is left, maybe in search a query.

And in between still stands he

Looks over for what’s left of the heir

Left and right, no one right or left.

Sets up and walks like theft.

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