Crimson, the hue of my envy by Anwesha Poddar (15, India)

Fleshy figures carrying masquerading secrets through bone and time
Sewed up eyes hold no meaning, so tell me your lies
What is that thing that you hide in your own Pandora's box?
Flying rumours about it, strumming into your nerves aching like slow poison.

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I have heard the tale of what bleeds and hides inside
A sinfully beautiful crimson hue, often running through the hallways of my youth
Crimson like the catered and crushed hue resting on a baby's cheek
Is it the same colour, that courses through your blood when you're shy?

When the holy one carved us through soil, did he know
About the spilled thoughts that make you feel disgusting and crawl out of your body
The feeling that rages a fiery conflicting war within you, on the victory of your own allies
You left me be, so I opened the box to find none other than lost "envy"

Beware for jealousy can stab you, as one dances through the crowd
But for now paint me in the crimson of your envy, that plagues the heart of your enemies
Burn me and spit me out in the highs of your psychedelic surreal jealousy
Oozing out of my heart in a steady rhythm, the artwork of covetous thoughts that will bring my end

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