It is I at the centre of the trial to come.
For my words are decisive. My subjects embody ascension and sudden decay.
The future of millions depends on our whims.
Since it's fate's irony that an insane jury throws the dice of existence.
Our bizarre title -the jury of insane -appears to be medival.
This time the king Stopped laughing for the jury of insane as pondering the facts.
We distribute decadence, not beauty as punishment as well as a gift.
We reached a peak in cynisism and believe that ugliness may lead to expiation.
Yet I walk in amazement among the ones I condemned and their horrid afflictions created minds less than perfect.
T'is impossibile saving this decayed substance.
