In regard to my conditions
They weren't veiled threats. just conversation
The empire fell and it wasn't done in error
A race had begun to the bottom of the barrel
In regard to your missive
I understand your side but still dismiss it
The golden child has only gotten older
It didn't fare well and the chip on my shoulder is
(Growing)
(Growing)
Growing
(It's growing. Welcome to your mirror
This farce is ending now, and I'm glad you got to hear it)
Buried with your flaws
This is your epilogue
(And now I've said too much)
In regard to your transition
Forced in part by this latest acquisition
Crisis mode, expected yet stunning
It hadn't broke yet but the story was coming
Righteous, cloaked in the words of a surrogate pen
And after you're gone, to victor your spoils
Your narrative taken away
(Growing)
(Growing)
Once again!
(It's growing. Welcome to your mirror
This farce is ending now, and I'm glad you got to hear it)
Buried with your flaws
This is your epilogue