His home was recreated in proper historical fashion
But he remains stone
Chained Set in the corner for observing
Imagined in ‘90s animation
Looking after the shelter
Holding down the fort
At night he storms with the ghost
Of Harry, being old and tired
Still placing stones in ‘70s t-shirts 
And still honoring knights of outsider teenagers
But when morning comes
A frozen time begins to relive 
For all that was rebuilt and soldered 
For the eyes of only the eccentric
Will even notice him