Notice, first
his stone face is frozen
into good-natured features.
Carved to guard
one royal heart
and the afterlife's spoils.

Now, they say
you can't take it with you
But they believed otherwise,
and I'm envying
the ease of their demise,
one million days, hence.

Thinking
burial in a pile of belongings
far better than renting
another storage unit.

I'm feeling quite sorry
for myself,
lamenting the plight
of the modern-day Bedouin.
Ignoring
the fact that this
lamassu was hewn
BY HAND...

From fucking granite,
no less.

Carved
into detailed perfection
and lasted an aeon
just to be ogled
by overgrown teenagers
boggled by their own
topography.

Some days,
I think I've got it rough.
Some days,
its hard to remember
artistry is all that's needed
to turn plain stone
to masterpiece.

Instead,
I'm shouldering the boulder
of a gray perspective
my own carved burden;
my own stony features.

Still,
I'd like to think
we
are both fierce
and benevolent
creatures.