Unknown

I found this in an old book of mine as I was combing through and downsizing my library. I wonder what I was going through at the time? No form, and I also seem to have coined a word--lapidation?What?

Cease, halt, curb this unseasoned and undeserved lapidation
Of sorrows and pain cascading from
Curious whereabouts unbeknownst to me

Bruises appear, are left unshown
From the hardest most elusive of stone
Unseen are these welts, invisible to the eye

But existent nonetheless, the pain perhaps more keen
For the heart sometimes heals not
As hastily as it would seem.

But the bruises therein have potential to unveil
The rarest of colors, all the more real....