deepundergroundpoetry.com
Rubies
How beautiful they glimmer,
These priceless jewels upon my hand,
Deepest burgundy, nearly purple,
Perfect in their gothic clarity.
I had not before known the gift of gems,
And these are the rarest of all,
So close to pigeon blood rubies,
Eternal is their quality.
These are deep and dimensional,
They are surreal in their shine,
Their reflection and cut unrivaled,
How strange to receive such beauty now.
I vaguely recall a desire for such trinkets,
A longing for a jewel to wear,
To receive such a gift of sacrifice,
That was never offered.
Now, these priceless rubies adorn my hands,
Solemnly glittering and gleaming in fading light,
As they drip slowly from my tender wrist,
Past my fingertips, sparkling one final time.
These priceless jewels upon my hand,
Deepest burgundy, nearly purple,
Perfect in their gothic clarity.
I had not before known the gift of gems,
And these are the rarest of all,
So close to pigeon blood rubies,
Eternal is their quality.
These are deep and dimensional,
They are surreal in their shine,
Their reflection and cut unrivaled,
How strange to receive such beauty now.
I vaguely recall a desire for such trinkets,
A longing for a jewel to wear,
To receive such a gift of sacrifice,
That was never offered.
Now, these priceless rubies adorn my hands,
Solemnly glittering and gleaming in fading light,
As they drip slowly from my tender wrist,
Past my fingertips, sparkling one final time.
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