Monasteries of Old
Rooms of self-imprisonment
Against Spiritual Impairment;
Castles like centuries-soaked Mountain,
To a type of knowledge The Fountain.
One a bit crazy to look at them long
Or on their account assemble a song.
Religious Repositories of Old
By one neared when one is bold;
A great wonder they did finally fold
And now in touching stories told …
Perhaps, something to do with veiled crime
Against them held by Record-Keeping-Time
Or in their inner rooms Defiling Gambling
By Monks who saw through every card play;
Maybe on their premises a rambling
By The Wizened sorting out things they hard way.
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