This stone

In this hand I call my own

I hold a pale, speckled stone

It’s smooth and hard. I feel its weight.

And I begin to contemplate.

See, with the stone that’s in my hand

There’s many futures I have planned

The potential power that lies within

The futures paths

This stone could break windows,

This stone could break trees

And where this stone goes

It goes because of me

This stone could be flint

It could turn monkey into man

Be the spark and the glint

To make fire as my plan

This stone could tumble and fall

So quickly down a hill

Strike another stone, then them all

An avalanche, from my will

This stone could be ground down

Into the finest of sand

Make a glass to my renown

And the things I have planned

It could be made to a computer

To do my thinking when I need

Though I’ll naturally dispute the

Origin of such mis-deeds

It could cause great catastrophe

Cause such immense destruction

This stone you now see?

It simply awaits my instruction…