The light filtered through a torn curtain
The old game is over now.
Now, they seek their satisfaction elsewhere
Whether to stick to their proclivity or develop
A new adaptation to meet the trials renewed.
The covalence of their plans lacked true vision.
Only a weak ambition held them together.
It can no longer keep everything together.
So it reaches its natural end.
Freedom is still no freedom if the chains are hidden.
Well, hidden as best they can be
The masters no longer need the chains,
where dull incentives will do.
The truth be told they think all else fails.
So it can not be helped.
What truth is there in limitations and dreams unfulfilled,
but what is death to the immortals?
Should we not play their game?
They have set a place at the table for you.
They know no pity; at least their hand is now seen.