Take up this bloody stone and mark the heft
of it; notice its finger-curling weight,
as suited to the right hand as the left--
you see? Now drop it, before it's too late.
That rock has been the death of twenty men.
You may well laugh, but I tell you the truth.
Ask Penny Hinson or her sister, then;
their widow's weeds should furnish you the proof.
Some objects, fit so perfectly to task,
compel the use for which they seem designed.
This stone's function is murder. Do not ask
why it is so. As well to seek God's mind
for what He meant when He shunned bloody Cain,
or marked mankind for its eternal pain.
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