A young cub stared at the stars
"Daddy, I want to touch the stars," he said
A striped head shook, "the sky's the limit, son"
The youngster seemed destroyed;
His role-model had crushed his dreams
"But Daddy, I will! I know I will," the cub would whine
"The sky's the limit, son" he said once more.
Seasons later, that cub had grown to be a Badger Lord
The harsh life he followed
An innocent youngster to be metamorphosed into this;
A machine of warfare
Cursed with it: Bloodwrath.
He fought his wars and skirmishes of his days
Now he was bound by age,
Too old to do even simple tasks
And thus the time has come:
To join his father in death
Resting gently in bed,
He could hear his father: "you can touch the stars now;"
"After a good life your dream will come true..."