And for all those challenges issued there lie
Too many more to count, lords in their high towers
With robes stinking purple from riches defy
The word spread by meek mouths, soon changed
To the spread of gums slashed by broken teeth.
The royalty of olden days has come to this time
To die, so many who should have stayed there,
Where the master sent them long ago, in moods
Whose source ever lay unknown to us, loyal children
In infernal matrimony, trapped and yet willing.