Epitome of decline,

      Self radical alignment with all that's shattered from hope's lost but possibly never found prophetic neglect, Grace's motivations were ultra goddess'impressive fashionably tangled with our marionette wishes for nought but greed, A conquest we've eternal uncontrollably been enamoured with it's every hatred day forecast of avarice on display in the mirror we willingly believe taste of... Gold.

In lieu of our appeasement, 
To all we continue to get over...!