My Ancestors

Oh my progenitor my ancestors,
Of this Earth are born my heirs, of what is not and what is fair,
Bless me of a fold, that I may exceed my goals damned in my soul,
And leave me not to rot in the pot of gold, that melts and become my foe.
But gift a blessing upon my heirs, to be firm and immovable from the taunting of all lifeʻs glares.