The Gargoyle on the roof. How far you've come, Without moving an inch. Always there; Often unseen. Standing steadfast, but time and the elements Will always chip away.
The Gargoyle on the roof: Sometimes small, Sometimes large. It will make itself known one day When it finally flies but Is found to be frozen in stone. Tumbling, tumbling down To hit the ground And shatter Or will it be saved From it's terminal fall By my unsuspecting brain? Will I be the one Who shatters?