surprise has come and the thrill has gone. the wind taken from the sails and Medusa gave her stare. icy cold stone death awaits the onlookers of such hideous evil. the liquid filling your guts as you turn to solid stone but you mind still struts. the island a hundred steps wide and the mines a hundred thousand deep with tunnels confusing enough for minotaurs and bread crumbs and tin cups fill every other passage way so you can get there and back. the wundow sills made of gold cannot climb up to the sky the slippery clear surface is just about to burn your flesh but the wax wanes instead your feathers drop your flapping arms are all thats left. the battle is lost and freedom is all but over the door to escape closed within walls of mortar never to be smashed by anything less strong than a lightning bolt of Zeus. not even and its a shameful thing, not even the beauty of Aphrodite can prevail against the horrors that mascaraed under false pretense. glare all you want. you wont break the curse. not even you Perseus, no, not even you Perseus. why were you not crushed why did you prevail against the scorpions and the torrential seas and the blazing burning desert storm that was caused by hades. oh Poseidon you enjoyment of allowing pirates onto your high waters. your enjoyment of tornadoes and the floods. you'll be the death of us all.
so why is it we worship.
