CORNERSTONE
See,
That stone,
By nadir marred,
By murk furred,
By haze cocooned,
Like a straw,
By gale of fate buffeted,
By tongues of skeptics, for
Eras a meretricious folk christened.
By tunic of shame decked,
Like a serf,
By dearth for myriads
Of eras snared.
Has,
By mettle
A pearl become.
By the hearth of cruel fate,
A gold with an ineffable glaring
Light become.
And nigh and distant tribes
On it’s glaring...
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