Weekly Enigma

A crooked spire grows in barren stones.
Its twisted arm plants the iron bones.

Weekly Enigma

Peculiar one, in nature rarely found
Upon your back we’ve built our own new world.
In every brick and structure thee abound.
In each true wall you fit your place uncurled
You, greatest within the confines of three.
You, brother to all in confines of four.
Even misplaced, wrong you can never be.
A slight curve in thy making thee abhor.
Thou art not with an aberrance of one
Your import is never understated
With meager variation you’re undone!
Yet, when cardinals meet four times created.
What fool riddler could fail to name ye?
When in their vision thou must plainly be?

Weekly Enigma

Can't be seen: warmth is here
Can't be drawn: danger's near