Everlasting Envy Poem by Miranda Lucas

His movements were far faster than my own, and try all I might there was no dodging it.

I winced as a blade pierced through my chest, warm sticky crimson beginning to flood from my new injury.

Here I am, facing off against him yet again.
He doesn't understand, no one does.

No matter how severely I'm wounded, I will never die.
Yet he continues to fight, despite his worthless existence.

He has several deep gashes, that are gushing rubies.
His head begins spinning, and everything begins to blur.

He could not have ever predicted this.
Dark, cold, the want to scream without the will to fight.

I've done it, I've won
Only natural, since I could not lose.

As he draws his final breath, I remember.
All those I have seen wither before my eyes.

I am envious of those who's existence will fade.