How darken a soul can be,
when it's given to hate and greed,
He wants his neighbor's meat,
His downfall is his pleasure,
His heart is the devil's theatre,
Stocked with old grudges,
buzzing like a rattlesnake,

His bowels are full of mischief,
His eyes swing as if they could bite,
The center of his heart has a hollow of unsatisfaction,
Invaded by jealousy and pride,
He is a slave to it,
It persuades him to do its bedding,

A look of death, camouflage beside his warm smile,
A green Snake on green grass
His heart holds the offspring of malice,
His soul is troubled by another man's uprising,
His heart resists his neighbor winning,
I deserve it also he would say,
Because his heart is made of stone.

He has refused to come out of the darkness,
From its shadows, he plots to kill,
He has nothing to care for
His only desire is to see his rival fall,
He has nothing to care for, but only his miserable self.





© Mentron Dc