I am the judgeI am jury

I am the judge, and the jury'

Roared once that wildly cold fury

Wrath brought the fated downfall thence

Of pride, scorn, and pseudo glory

The sunken ship now screams out loud-

'I used to harbor many crowds

And then few layers of shadowed clouds Hid tales of gold no longer 'llowed-'

A maze almost-serpentine

The walls blocking, yet so entwined

They sting then say it's all benign

They kill with pleasure, then build them shrines

(How heavenly fair, brassily divine)

What's use of all this ghostly run? For wheels of time have always spun

These webs that lure into free-ing entries And yet have exits, never to none-