From the deep roots of mines,
Painted with blood and lies,
Smeared in the past,
Describes me at last.
With the dark brown hair like my father’s ancestor had with his shining armor
As he led his men into the battlefield spearing blades in the enemy's chest.
My eyes wide and brown like my mother's ancestors had
Able to see everything move in its dense jungle like a panther sneakily haunting its next prey.
My determination a sense of achievement, a sense of survival,
that has been passed down to achieve a sense of perfecting for what has gone wrong.
I'm a creation of a man and women with different backgrounds,
With lies that were made up to their people and from scars made up for fighting beasts.