Hideous in the beauty of granite stone,
Sentinel of the church tower throne.
Vacant eyes that ponders all it oversees,
Pigeons like jesters, frolic the rooftop eaves.
Vigilant in judgment of the church going mass,
These souls are unworthy for heaven to pass.
Wings unfurled, ready to take flight,
To the luminous stars at midnight.
The King of his rooftop domain,
Shaped in granite evermore he'll reign.
Alas imprisoned in rigid bespelling stone,
Gargoyle perched on his church tower throne.