when the storm you've spun billows in disarray and wrecks the subterfuge you worked so hard to deceitfully create. you realize there is nothing left for you to cower behind; the hinderance you so artfully construct has crumbled into mere dust. you find yourself alone in the midst of pandemonium surrounded by the 'drabs' (as you call us) your foolish endeavours trailed along. the once high and mighty throne you rest on suddenly becomes a seat for fools. you have lost everything, you are nothing.
and for what? your pride has killed you.
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