credits: mayshing
Oh, son how I have seen you grow.
Oh, how I wish to see you old.
Oh, I miss thee as I grow alone
A way for me to atone I see
A rightful path I wish to tread
The feeling of dread never leaves
Oh, how thee never left me alone
Oh, I atoned with him
My nephew, a honor deprived-soul
A honor he is yet to see
within that very soul.
