Wayward Sons

A dedication to my favourite show one year after it ended.

Two brothers born into a life,

One filled with grief, and strife.

Following a father, cursed with revenge,

The death of a mother, the purpose to avenge.

 

He claimed to be a wise man,

But truly means, he didn’t know.

 

Riding a white Cadillac, they greeted death like an old friend.

Their life already dictated, and story already penned.

With their daddy’s words in mind, and trunk loaded with guns,

A legacy spoken long ago, was left upon those two sons:

 

Save people, hunt things.

That had been the family business.

 

With the rumble of black and chrome,

The brothers find themselves not to be alone.

Chasing yellow eyes, would cost them everything,

But little did they know what it would actually bring.

They rose above that noise and confusion,

And got a glimpse beyond the illusion,

That family doesn’t end in blood. That’s what they say.

And this family of ours extends beyond, and together, we stay.

 

Wrapped in a trench coat, with eyes like the sky.

An angel flew, soaring ever high.

But he flew too high, and he fell from grace,

Happiness would cost him, and a love, he could not chase.

 

A King, masquerading as a man with a reason,

Eyes as black as his heart, his charade the event of the season.

But his hatred towards them was nothing but fake,

To save the brothers, his own life he would take.

 

A surly pseudo father, with a proud smile drenched in wine,

With a phoenix haired queen, who always walked on Sunshine.

A Police officer, kind at heart who cared for three girls.

While a profit was chosen against his will, and new life unfurls.

A hunter’s bar, that always treated them well,

Along with a third brother who found himself in Hell.

A mother of magic, who came from a different time,

With a trickster who joked and fled, but paid for his crime.

Lastly a vengeful God, who wanted their free will to bend,

But it was a child of three years, who would save the world in the end.

 

It doesn’t feel like a year has passed,

Since the end of two sons, and their father’s car.

But we set a course for winds of fortune,

Because, as we know, this is just the road so far.

They taught us to Carry On,

Just like those Wayward sons.

While we still morn, we cry no more.

We know they are at peace,

Now their story is done.