Lust

 the me of the goat

you will filt yourself in a muddy bath

you will continue to contaminate

you will continue to erode your bodies

the clean waters will be dirtied by no one else's but yours

until every pure water is tainted in pollution

men of the goat wil scrub and force their bodies upon the clean waters

yet they will forever be unpure

their bodies will never rid of the marks of their sins

the dirty waters will run inside of their bodies and liquify their insides

it will wash away the last purities it had

they will writhe in pain from the agony of the waters

the water drowning away their senses

Wrath

The wrathful kings of the savana

Lions still dig their claws to other kin

Their claws clinging to their flesh and tearing their bodies

The blood of their victims decorating the ground of the Savana

Men of the lion will never cease to erase the red that fills their hearts

The red that transfer from the heart to the eye

Their glasses will be tinted in red so the blood they spilled remains unnoticed.

The wrathful lions will even sink their teeth into their own kin

they will tear of each other's eye

the cycle shall continue and the whole world be left in a dark world

Hear my words, men born from the raging wrath of the volcano

You will erupt and you will destroy that which makes you big and mighty.

The volcano will burn and turn you into a small and worthless rock.

When the sky itself is bloody with the sins you've allowed yourself to commit

Then will the wrathful lions cease to hunt.

For no more prey has filled the land.

For they have brought destruction to all.

Greed

 Born of golds and glamour, men are.

Flourished in their peonies

fed with golden spoons

Monkeys of these ages will grow their trees and reap the fruits dry

They will climb on them and hang on their branches

Men born from gold will return to gold

They will return with the golds all worth naught

Their bodies will turn to gold itself as they cling onto it

They will rip their skins and take off their clothes

to cling onto the gold that brithed them and their sin

Yet the gold will only melt into their flesh and burn them alive

They do say that your fortunes will not follow you to the afterlife.

Pride

 Peacocks will flap their capes and flashes their colors

Admiring the beauty that holds it in a collar

Men born of the peacock will be born in the glory of violet hues

They will eat the serpents and their brethren

Their glory will rival the serpent's venom

Pride fills their feathers and glorifies their slaughter of the serpents

Men of peacock, have you no shame?

Your teeth bears to the people's skin and bear their faults

Shards of mirror will tear you open and clash against your veins

Your head will be rotten with apples and burried in it's seed

Hear this now, you who are born of the peacock's feathers

When the time comes, you will writhe in a bath of mirrors

Will it only be then, when you realize

the burdens carried by men of Pride?

Envy

 When Envy ruled the lands, humans become slaves

Slaves of the green that filled their bellies

O' men born of the snake,

watch the men born of glory and fame.

Your tongue will forsaken those of gold.

Eyes of snakes will be tied and holed.

Envy, the trait of fools.

Never again will the serpant see jewels.