Greed is a garden that demands constant cultivation.
No rose is ever fragrant enough, no leaf too green.
It is a garden that starts off lush,
With the promise of lasting beauty.
But as this garden grows, wanting ever more,
Its roots start to rot.
On the surface, nothing changes at first.
The illusion of beauty lingers
In sweet perfumes and dazzling colors.
But on the inside, this garden is hollow.
Growing only resentment and hate.
Devouring every little flower
In an eternal quest for perfection
That keeps slipping further out of reach.