I am not coming

You asked me to come
I said I cannot be forced
So please hear me again:
I am not coming – to your funeral

You will die alone, all alone
Drowned in prejudices
Die of loneliness and misery
From all your wrongdoings

You wronged me, mocked me
Robbed me of my innocence
Called me idealistic – then
Took advantage of my idealism

I never idealized or idolized you
The first time you smiled at me
I spotted the rot between your teeth
Bleached and whitened superficially

But plaqued beneath the surface
Just like your rotten soul
Fake and flimsy your manners
Like your inflated untruths

The Thracian gods punished you
For coveting their daughter
Not just one – but many!
And the scar will remain as reminder

Reminder to you for your gluttony
Not to eye that which is not yours
But belongs to another, not to mark
Territory which you have not earned

Remain in your realm of local glory
Transgress boundaries foreign jamais!
And try not to teach others that which
You have not mastered yourself yet

Remain in the shade of your local glory
Fading between past and present
For futures do not pave your way
So long the laws of human nature you disobey!