Hewn from a single slab,
most powerful and ferocious.
Thirty tonnes of protective spirit.
The face that daunts; the wings, the hooves.
Amid his mass of curled hair and tumbling beard,
a stern kind of tight-lipped smile.
Knowledge shown in the outline of the limbs,
bearing not arms but pine cone and basket.
The naked leg designed with a spirit and truthfulness.
Above his back, wide spreading feathers rise,
his breast and body profusely adorned
with exquisite history.
I pity hatred as identity.
Credit to this article by Kanishk Tharoor and Maryam Maruf.
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