Cold, muffled sounds,
Existing formlessly confused.
Heaved from the bedrock.
Awaiting freedom from
My primal stone prison.

Each strike cracks away
Imperfections piling up in
A haze of rubble and lies.
Slowly clinging to a feeling
Bound to the earth.

I feel the touch of soft
Loving hands through
the rough shell incasing.
Searching for the fine details
Which parts will bend or break.
A work of art only seen through
Careful gaze.

Working away at rugged body
Ill dreams, poisoned thoughts
Fade into the dust at my feet.
Finally feeling the smoothness
Of my skin, almost ready.
Complete your masterpiece.
Finish me. Your relic to stand against
Time. Eroding, breaking losing
Profound definition as years pass.
But the meaning and the love
Stand against loss of mortality.