We alternate between the ashes,
Of a father in past tense,
With blood, bone and family clashes,
A wolf pack of a differen't scent.

A hiearchy deformed in nature,
My eye colour confined,
To those who left us a broken hater,
Slaving away to time.

Our fortunes forbidden to show and tell,
You'll find it in a luxury drink,
Thoughts and feelings your mind expels,
So you let the words sink.

A carrier of the family gene,
One we do not accept,
As we mop the floor of the dirt and gore,
Then carry on with all we have left.