Angeli Sophia Art Studio

I scoff immersed with love, and false young pairs
Are painted comely with their blissful smiles.
They bask in joy, so forged by lust’s affairs,
But love from lust withers and soon beguiles.
Why do my eyes translate from blue to green?
Such envy proves to scar fragile, young souls,
And aims to tear open healed wounds once seen.
Apples turn pink, rosy when rain rolls,
Across the cheeks of too many in bloom.
It’s odd how envy seeps into your veins,
To cause desire for what you know is doom,
This lust is envy’s true monster in chains.
Into the glass the grains of sand can flow,
With age, I will unveil love’s truth, I know.