A pack;
It's what I've always wanted;
A family all my own.

My life, through lessons,
Left me haunted;
I set out on my own.

On my knuckles,
Still fresh with pride,
The ink which marks my path,

I've no true love,
And no true friends,
And I won't hide
My wrath.

The one I could've
Called my own
Is thirteen years now passed;

Yet as a Lone Wolf,
I still roam,
And leave the mark
I cast;

It's not about
The isolation,
Nor that I'm alone.

It's less about the
Loneliness,
More that I feel ALONE.

But still, I've made
My peace inside,
Ask anyone I know!

I travel as a Lone Wolf,
But they all know me,
Where I go.