In the center of the room stood something in the shape of a man
He towered over the others, clothed in a lavish blue suit
His dark eyes glistened with the strongest arrogance and conceit
filled with self-glory
The man only spoke in the tongue of patronizing and condescending
It was all he ever knew
He was the master of mockery
How could someone always be so sure of themselves?
To honestly believe you are superior?
How could you be so narcissistic and boastful?
Well, he was Pride after all.
The woman surveyed the others
She flashed a smile at Pride
Her blue sapphire eyes sparkled with constant desire
with eyelashes long and black as midnight
Although she was beautiful
that was the only thing going for her
She was something of an Aphrodite
but she was Lust
Burning eyes flickering with a daring fire
dangerously shifted across the room
For as long as the beginning of time
she fed off resentment and hate
Loathe and detest was the only thing she could feel
To be overcome with such unquenchable fury
That was Wrath.
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