Little puppy born into orphanage and a dream,
Caged in the shelter and fettered by chains,
But stars and stripes glow with a vivid gleam;
And the smell of raw meat runs in his veins.

Now waxed in mettle and a member of the pack,
Moves silently from downwind to become alpha,
Preys on the weak and herds with a subtle attack;
Hence his callous ethos spreads a new miasma.

The scent of blood croons to his ravenous spirit,
The lone wolf on a reign of terror and disregard,
Alas new puppies shall from the ranks and inherit,
For a novel way they shall the auld discard,
They’ll forsake and send him to join the whisperers,
In his crucifixion he will fight his corner with no listeners.