Seven Deadly Sins

A Poem by Bookworm1223

The mask is painted bright,
Happy pinks and greens and reds,
To hide the beast inside.
The one with seven heads.

The first, her name is Wrath.
Her tongue lashes like a blade.
She spits and fumes in fury,
Her happiness, other's pain.

The second goes by Envy,
Her scales a sickly green.
She hates other's treasures,
While her own lay unseen.

The third? Well she likes Sloth,
As she lounges round about.
She likes doing nothing,
While the others all go out.

Gluttony is the fourth,
With her gaping, stretching maw.
She sucks in all she can,
Keeps it trapped inside her jaws.

Next is good old Lust.
She's quieter than the rest.
Though her voice comes rising to the top,
When one becomes undressed.

Greed sits sixth, upon her throne,
Scepter clasped within her hold.
She sees not pain, not loss, nor fear,
Her world tinted fifty shades of gold.

Pride comes last, though she would say,
First is her rightful place.
She laughs and smiles to herself,
Through the makeup on her face.

The mask I wear,
With colors painted bright,
Has only one reason alone.
I wear it all day, I wear it all night,
So none know who the beast calls home.