Standing Still, Alone, Forever and Always

There once was one, then two, then three that blossomed on my genealogical tree.
Then three, then two, then one and none remained ceasing all there was to be.
Chiseled there upon the ashes, war was made, such vicious clashes.
Then one, then two, then three battles rose to single out the masses.
Fighting and bowing and flames embalming, one was left to bear the howling.