Still Image

Still Image

By Murgok-gro-Gurzong

Never distant ventured from my lord

Loyal servant was I

Questioned him not, always adored

I was my own why

Struck low was he

Paralyzed forever it appeared

My skill was great, so how could it be

I cast spells to cure, but no recovery neared

I wept myself to sleep every night

How could my failure be so deep? How to resolve my plight?

I asked my lord to guide my hand

To give me a remedy he had planned

Silence was the response, of course

Being paralyzed, my lord's voice had no force

And the question remained:

With my ability, why was the cure so hard to obtain?

One night, at the brink of exhaust

I gave my lord closer inspection, and all was lost

Finally I noticed what had stymied

The fault was not my skill, not my deed

For after seeing my lord so close I saw

That my lord was not paralyzed at all!

My embarrassment grew, and I left my lord alone

For my lord had not been a man at all, but finely crafted stone!