statue of the Iron Owl

Stare at me, upon your Iron throne,
Through wisdom’s eyes, what horrors have you known,
Of fire blazed to create your form,
Do you long for the figure after which you were born?

Can you tell me, stiffened owl, the thoughts of your maker?
The sky must ache for you to take her,
Do you hate your unfilled desire –
To be real, yet bound by fire?

What, soundless bird of night,
Lies hidden within frozen sight?
You stand there forever to confess,
Always showing, always sharing, never rest

What adventures holds the window you keep,
Through sun-shinning days or skies that weep?
What challenge to us does your purpose behold,
The story of life, standing untold