Answer:
As I walked along the path I saw something with four fingers and one thumb, but it was not flesh, fish, bone or fowl.
Halo of water, tongue of wood. Skin of stone, long I've stood. My fingers short reach to the sky. Inside my heart men live and die.
Screaming, soaring seeking sky. Flowers of fire flying high. Eastern art from ancient time. Name me now and solve this rhyme.
With sharp edged wit and pointed poise. It can settle disputes without making a noise.
So cold, damp and dark this place. To stay you would refrain, yet those who occupy this place do never complain.
Break me and I am better immediately set and harder to be broken again.