He tried
to breathe fire into stone,
but ended up with burnt hands,
and just a brick.

He was still obstinate,
obsessed with his design,
a god to be praised,
a god with whom
you could drink wine.

He showed it to his friends,
they would understand,
that a god youve built
is better then one you cant.

So brick turned to deity,
and years passed,
until all was forgotten,
when time had erased the past.

A builder was looking,
to patch up his home,
stumbled upon a brick
that, unbeknownst to him,
had once sat on a throne.

It was placed under a window,
to keep out the wind,
a role it preferred
far more then to be a god

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