A tinted green not many may glimpse,
Envy; The edge of its blade.
Seeping rasps then wrest the clarity -
From reason, and all its aid.
Muffled cracks will shape the cinders;
The space, in which they burn.
Perception hushed by incessant noise -
Leaving the ones that matter, to go unheard.
A longing one-sided
To understand and to commit -
Oneself, and all else thus
Towards earning, and deserving it.
When that voice no longer carries; Woeful whispers the pulsing-dire -
The solemn breath to mourn, never reaching another.
Emerald consumes the billows of riotous waters fraught with ire -
And soft be the echo, when their fervor returns to slumber.