The Stone
by John Uilkema
Perhaps you have seen that standing pillar?
The obelisk was carved with a thousand scars,
fortified against the wind and the rain.
Foliage around the ancient grove
sucks dry the blood of those who stay, unwary
of the danger this eldritch garden holds.
Aside the stone, upon the bed of moss,
an archaic chisel calmly waits. Sharper
than any user's wit, the etching knife
will find a pristine owner in which
to reveal the truth of its grand design.
Prowess: for those who seek the blade.
Young one, grab hold the ancient carving blade,
find a blank spot, and etch old scars fresh again.