Still Image (Cure Paralyzation)

[Zephyr]

"On touch","30","40","Poem relating a foolish worshipper's attempt to cure a well-crafted statue.","Non-specific; statue isn't described","Orc"

Still Image

By Murgok-gro-Gurzong

Never distant ventured from my lord
Loyal servant was I
Questioned him not, always adored
I was my own why

Struck low was he
Paralyzed forever it appeared
My skill was great, so how could it be
I cast spells to cure, but no recovery neared

I wept myself to sleep every night
How could my failure be so deep? How to resolve my plight?
I asked my lord to guide my hand
To give me a remedy he had planned

Silence was the response, of course
Being paralyzed, my lord's voice had no force
And the question remained:
With my ability, why was the cure so hard to obtain?

One night, at the brink of exhaust
I gave my lord closer inspection, and all was lost
Finally I noticed what had stymied
The fault was not my skill, not my deed

For after seeing my lord so close I saw
That my lord was not paralyzed at all!
My embarrassment grew, and I left my lord alone
For my lord had not been a man at all, but finely crafted stone!