I am not your home.
I am not your village.
I am certainly not your food.
I am not a canvas of adventure.
I do not smell of luxury.
I am not great, nor am I gracious.
I do not grant your company.
It seems that you are under the wrong impression.
As a madder of fact, you are in grave danger.
So many tools to give you your death, and yet, my heart wonders
if you have sympathy?
Do you not have compassion for your brothers, the others
in which you willingly bring to me?
Little Kamikaze fly, fly away, or I will kill you,
All of you.