A Stone

What is more docile than the stone not thrown?
Round, cool, and quiet it sits,
but the potential to be tossed is never lost,
for a rock is weighty and, at Hate’s
discretion, can be cast.
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At Hate’s discretion the stone will be made known
to his prey-- flesh breaks, blood pours, and the gore
is hailed as just, but the rock thrust
at the victim is judgment misjudged,
for what is more righteous than a stone not thrown?
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Content it lies and let it lie.
Indifferent it sits and let it sit.
Peacefully it slumbers and let it sleep.
For not every hurled stone should have been thrown.