I have a key, but I do not have a lock. I am often seen in An old antique shop.

From womb of the queen, through chaos I came, to challenge the shadow that murdered my name. An eye for the truth, though one I did lose, I soar where the sun and the kings both choose.

I am one who loves to battle and spar. I can take the shape of a sphere, god, or bar. Whether a rocky giant, or a god with great fame, You should know that the Roman's are responsible for my name.

I creep forward without pause No plea can halt my ageless cause In every wrinkle, I leave my name I end all stories, just the same

Pirates' plight, a lack of citrus might cause this silent fright.