Envy

I see the rage, crimson red
oozing out, seeping through
dripping off your eyes anew.

I see your fist, clenched as it
is to halt the running flow.
Low your eyes, yet deadly glow.

I see you breathe, short intakes
nose flaring, yet by the screen
behind the scream, you go all green.

I see all slashed, tattered tuxedo
placebo, to the one you owe.
The burn is still as is though.

I see the files scattered,
marred and charred thrown over.
You still feel like a pushover.

I see the knife sharpened though
so edgy like the mutilated picture
and the bottle of unopened elixir.

I see you take in long breath,
shred your thoughts, grab the knife.
Mumbling thoughts of afterlife.

I see the glint in your eyes
prize, the desire to takeover.
Have it all, no leftovers.

I see you peep through the door
floor, but same, yet it held more
name, more fame, more in store.

I see you though, silently tiptoe
Let go of conscience and fear
there, stand and shed a silent tear.

I see you look at the face
the same lines of furrow, the same
sigh of sleeping form, similar name.

I see you raise your hand high
sigh stopped from the sleeping form
like the calm before the storm.

I see the form jerk about.
Shout he couldn't as you staked
his heart, with all your hate.

Eyes wide with surprise, he stilled
Last breath left, with the pierced hilt
Bloodied quilt, blood spilt
and you with much much less guilt.

I see you then realise
eyes closed yet the tears ran
through the bloodied shirt of your best man.

I see you peep at yourself
on the mirror, attached to shelf
Welp you couldn't, you couldn't help.

I see the very image of you
Who laid dead on the floor
And you stood there
As silent as the moor.

Same home, same name, same face
I see even the same blood didn't sway
You and the envy had it's way.
©srijaprasita