The Curse You Bear

Do not speak my name—you do not know,
The blood we share is all we show.
I am not your daughter in love or trust,
That thread we share is only dust. 

Your disloyalty drips like poison’s sting,
A traitor’s words that curse and cling.
A failure not just as a man you’ve been,
But as a soul, corrupt within.

You’re broken deep, beyond repair,
A hollow man who cannot care.
You fear my strength, my light, my will,
But your weakness chains you—keeps you still.

You turned away, you shut your eyes,
And left me lost to your shallow lies.
To see, to know, to love was small,
But even that you let me call.

You sit in judgment, casting scorn,
Mocking bonds that others mourn.
Your love was saved for one alone,
The rest you left as stone to stone.

A hypocrite with a paper crown,
A king of nothing, looking down.
And yet it burns, this bitter truth,
That I grew strong while you stayed mute.

The jealous bile within you grew,
Until it rotted what’s left of you.
You stood and watched her life decay,
While lifting not a hand to stay.

Even her children felt your cold,
Their cries were met with words retold.
You left them drowning, just the same,
And yet you dare to speak my name?

A failure, yes, in all you do,
Not just as a father, but a man untrue.
You cling to tests of fleeting lore,
While offering nothing, forever poor.

You are nothing, this much is clear,
Your house of lies will disappear.
Do not speak my name, it’s mine,
Your curse is yours—I’ll not align.