Father Time allowed a Wolfpack. We were happy. One year passed, our motherland called some of us. We got separated. We were still happy.
Some gained time. Some lost time. Some stayed with time.
With his authority, time bent everything. Everyone, every single damn thing turned.
Everyone, every single damn thing turned.
Faded memories. Altered identities. Different routes 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 fun, a few laughs, and much-needed reminiscence.
Time is not cordial as I know my him pretty well.
Impending judgment awaits. As he created, he will destroy.
We were all alone. We are all alone.