In emerald shadows, envy hides,
A serpent's hiss in whispers bides.
It slithers close, with silent tread,
Feeding on words better left unsaid.
It eyes the joy in others' gain,
And rains upon it, bitter disdain.
For in its grasp, hearts turn to stone,
And revel in sorrows not their own.
Yet envy's gift is a twisted mirror,
Reflecting a life that's drawn in error.
For the beauty it begrudges in another's tale,
Is a light within, that need not pale.
So let go the green, the covetous leer,
Embrace your own, hold it dear.
For envy wins when sights are set,
On what we yearn for but don't get.
- Author: Ria_ (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: April 11th, 2024 12:43
- Comment from author about the poem: I wrote this poem because I've seen and been around the dangerous power of Envy, but the dark envious.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
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