hisidro di angelo {two cb}

A god, you were not,
No matter how hard you tried to believe.
You had the wrong surname, yet the right blood;
It's a shame that blood offers an ounce of the power
That the surname gives.

You knew that you deserved better,
As a son of the most powerful man in Two.
The name was just out of reach; di Angelo,
Was the one that was bequeathed to you--
And you would deal with it.

Cold dark nights were the things
That was greeting you; the mother which you
Were born by disappeared, before her face had a residence--
You felt the loss of affection, yet ignored it.
You've survived this long without it.

The dark hair you called your own was long; 
Your eyes pools of darkness drawing everything in--
Everyone knew you dealt in secrets, 
The key hung around your neck (gold alloyed and ornate).
It was your drug and you were addicted.

You have a sister; she isn't like you.
Molten liquid rolled down her throat
As fast as the smile whipped across your face
You were a charmer to everyone--
And hers was to herself and the bottle.

You ran along the ice when you were young;
A freedom was not known, yet you ran.
The ice you used to run on was too thin--
Cracks began to show, and soon you were drowning.
You swam, and you've never stopped since.

To be a di Amgelo is no easy task you see--
Crocetti is where you're meant to be.