Stone of Fear

Stone of Fear, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

She stands before me,
Stoic as possibly be.
All locked up inside,
Like Vibia Sabina,
Or the lost ballerina.

Drawn to this unknown,
All agog of her in stone.
Where to find a clue,
Of her true purpose or use.
Drawn to her to be my muse!

Not of ivory!
Galatea is not she!
But of her beauty,
Who can surpass, there is none.
Without word my heart she’s won.

Frozen by a curse,
A fate I wish to reverse.
Be it for my gain!
Again she’ll be soft and warm,
Now quelled her internal storm.

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