The Statue Poem by Arafat Driche

The story's told
Of long ago
About a statue
With a head of gold

And its breast
Did silver shine
And brassness
At lower spine

Now iron did make
The legs so strong
And at its base
Was all made wrong

For it was built
Of miry clay
And reinforced
With iron sway

It stood upon sand
Which did give way
When the base was hit
By a Stone that day

The great image
Built sixty high
Summed three sixes
From its front side

And through it was
Only six wide
It bare the mark
Of beastly pride

But the beast did crumble
And was blown away
Like shaft in the wind
Forever gone to stay

And that Stone hewn
By no man's hand
Became a Mountain
Forever to stand.