The sins of the father and the son must be punished
Allow the juries hand to be corrupt and
Dispense their magical omnipotence.

But taste the finality of man as the hammer draws near
To consequence; and question
The strangers leer in corrupt composure.

The judges sweat melds to the handle, he grips
Hard to the justice of his resolve, as
It slips beneath the bench

And now to the audience, you decide
To solidify a man in a statue to justice or
Grant redemption and torments respite.
Because I put to you that,
the sins of the father and the son must be punished.

...
My Spirit, I dropped
My neck, how tragic!—
Oh, why was I doomed?—
What a shame of love,—
Beset me for living
How poor was my trial?—
That king caught me— Just to be his vice!
Surely, I was a noble queen—
'Til the justice defied me..

Coined by 30 years,— Now deriving for 25 years,
This automatic era seemed haste for me,— Where people work less with limbs,— And more with chained machines
All tenses are verbose,— of such faint vision;— When all the dots meet,—
Perhaps, gallops are faster than wheels.
--...
Whenever I daze in my reflection,
I morbidly feel the bruised mark on my pelvis,— whence Homer penetrated it,— And this slit scar on my nape— of my husband's infidelity
Oh fate, may thou all wrath in flames..

I was not an outlaw!—
Thou all praised a sculpture,—
And smashed it, when it was bore!
Thou bidded swears— To a bedswerver's norms!
My downfall revealed thy disgraced offerings— Traitors!

—My poor, poor queen— Do not weep,
    For I shall be great,— This lady will
    dissect the hypocrites, and clothe
    the faithful—
    I shall be the image of your tragedy
    and glory
    This is the order of my commitment
    I am a ponent;
    I am a defender.

Quote our testament:
"We art the culprits and victims of our own plot. If an admiring rogue invades thy core, it shall weakened thou as culprit into an ever victim— To be held in judgment, and to be both perceived as no innocent."

—The conviction of worldly accomplices,
    This shall be the vengeance of an obsolete sentence.—

Altaira, with me,—
Thou art neither a corpse—
Nor a bit of ash;
'Tis the time for ruling
Your Majesty—
Cheers to the jury..

Based on all evidences and witness
And revised act of 2018
This Court
Acknowledges your big day
and wants to,
wish you happy B’day

“Stay blessed
Stay free”
The Jury said.

She died drowning
Just to blame the sea

Here, I’m the witness.