Status Quo Poem by Pearl Walden

No way out discerned from the fog,
From the four harsh invisible walls
Crushing in dense cuboid form
The spirit which subsequent falls
In depths of the murkiest slime
Which choked on the breath of all hope
Of joyful prospects for all time
As choice made to do only good
Returns naught but ill punishment
For trivial sins and falsehoods
Not absolved and ever renascent
Permitting only wandering
In deep despair of solitude
Borne with no possible rendering
Of just rewards for fortitude.