Catharsis of a Sculpture

alabaster moulded and opened my eyes,

blank spheres of frigid rock through which I was blind

colorless were my limbs; I felt no rays of life

dared any to mar or chisel slight

edge would bow but not my might.

fair was my carving, and I alone claimed its show, while

grief brought mourners far to near, beneath my long-etched

hollow throes.

I let them weep beneath my feet, plant

jewels among those there deceased

knowing I’d stood when they’d must needs sleep

looted of rest, in rain, sun, and sleet.

many a night in my alabaster eyes

naught but the world was reflected, and it tried.

orders of the earth I understood through time

people, and places, and passions implied,

quilting an existence unique from mine.

reality became a gradual chain

soon, it tore at my arms and smeared my plaque

the mourners below joined the graves, pieces of my body scattered

under their remains.

various floods carried my whole beyond, till

when at last the tides shifted, I was too spread to bond

xeric were my soils, among lands and lively pools

yet I persisted as one, and without feeling felt

zones of alabaster eye whose sight had been dealt.