I am of stone so nobody could hear  me

I am of clay so I could be born  again

I am of silence so I could listen to a morning dew

I am bowed by the woe so I wouldn't remember the name of its giver

I am motionless so my wail  could be louder.

I am of noone so I wouldn't desire

I am not here It's only you looking at what I could have become.

And I have become what you haven't made me be.