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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