The gated gap between us--built of miles and time zones--
Made you oblivious; so certain that you'd be blind to my wounds.
You cherished every rolling hill and stretching road that kept you alone,
But hills were climbed and roads traversed so you'd be consumed!

I'd nearly died so many times--my own hand my fated doom--
But you'd built your walls to lock me out, and barred away my cries.
Well, old man, now's the time to see you've only built yourself a tomb,
And that, while my words live on, it shall be your arrogance that dies.

Ignorant, old condescending fool; a rotting sack of wasted promise,
I've built my throne from the bones of the soldiers you've sent--
Your heinous words, you ignoramus ****, are a hymn to my success--
And I'm ready to break your spine (since your soul's already bent)!

Tell me now about your paints while I scribble with your blood!
Come now, dear father, come bask in your flood!

I'll open veins above you and reign with a rain of ink!
You think I'd be just like you? Here comes another think!
I'm twice the man with four times the wit;
All the grit without an ounce of ****!
Let me slit my throat on quill-pen tip,
And watch you choke upon my quip.
Your ***** are tethered to a weathered brick of bitter remorse,
While I conduct a mantra diction of contradicted course.

I won't say you're dead to me; you're worth much more intact.
While there's many who can fit the mold, you help me construct losers--
The fodder I write just to slaughter; I've killed you frequently, in fact--
So when I need a worthless sack of **** you're the one I choose, sir!

So thanks for that, you beatnik ****; I'll **** it on your epitaph!
And I'll do it all for free!
This ain't a vindictive son bellowing slander just for grandeur, no sir!
This is an oath to an old oaf that, though I can't remember your voice,
You WILL remember me!