Gargoyle

 

Gargoyle sits perched.

Water boils.

Fire flickers.

Carver toils,

chiseling the creature

of the shadows,

looking down so

grimaced and still.

There's a chill

in the air all around

where he sits

up on the crown

of darkness

and the night ahead

laughing at

all the sunlight dead,

perched with his wings

folded under,

clawed and curled 

as he waits

and waits

by the marble walls.

But he's stonewalled,

and he growls your way.

Flickering fire,

lighting rays,

it's all ablaze

in darkened days,

the gargoyle's way.


2012


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