Father Time allowed a Wolfpack. We were happy.
One year had passed, our motherland called some of us. Separation. We were still alright.
Some of us gained time. Some lost time. Some stayed with time.
Time metamorphosed everything.
Everyone, every single damn thing turned.
Faded memories. Altered identities. Different paths, and Newly-generated egos.
No word spit, we acted as if none had changed: talked, feasted, and smoked in the past.
We overlooked his rule for our pleasure, a few laughs, and much-needed reminiscence.
Time ain’t no our friend or enemy.
Impending judgment awaits. As he created, he will destroy.
We were all alone. We are all alone.