An Impossible Wish
A silent and still statue I'm standing in the rain and the sun,
my stony eyes with frozen tear stare at the pale horizon,
my visage is disfigured and body is battered
but heart is still warm and extremely sentient,
your wind of anger and downpour of hatred break me piece by piece
still I eagerly wait for your tender fingers' kiss.
Why don't you be my final sculptor
and shape me with sweeping strokes with a riffler?
Why don't you hammer me hard with a chisel and a knife
and size me as you wish and infuse in my life,
and before I am reduced to worthless bits
with each stroke remove my flawed chips
and transform me to your priceless masterpiece?