Ruby Mahogany

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Part of a series. I'd like to hear your opinions on interpretations etc. Thanks for reading :)

Submitted: August 24, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 24, 2012




Pools of rich Mahogany dripping through shivering cracks

Flowing freely on colourless feet; Gerti moulded fire

Ruby falls into roomless heat, her body shaking eternally

Mahogany is deepening, no walls though she is engulfed


Caving sense of dignity, rough toes quiver turning to dirt

Drifting into pity our favourite darling cannot speak now

Floating on a mountain of deceit, spiked with beautiful impossibility

Fantasy overrides reason to fill in the cracks, duty unbinding


Floods of Mahogany glossing her thighs, immersed in fascination

Ruby cannot comprehend a world before the fall, her Mahogany’s azure

Her shuddering corpse dissolves into the red river haze

Valleys of love collapsing beneath the storm, gentle tide misconceived


Ruby’s poison murdered her world, duty froze Mahogany’s caress

Mourning home to break port, hope has ripped dream’s flesh from bone

Mahogany evaporated, her body remains inside his clutches

Blazing sails on a silver, still sea catching an imaginary breeze


Droplets of Mahogany scattered in taunting disarrays

Ruby won’t submit to her adoration; sailing away to blackest gates

She wanders her isolated path to a cavern of dust

Blinding her eyes once bright; diamonds pierce her greying iris


Squirming in shackles of coal, a flame to her blood

Ignite your dearest child – Ruby the run away from the pit of azure

Silver diamonds cannot catch her and in torment, Mahogany is vanquished

Ruby smiles in deliberation, irony reigns as deliberation is dead


A moment passed she cannot recall, echoing from the most precious of times

She thought Mahogany would follow, he whispered he’d chase her

To the ends of the Earth. His Lords have him chained; her body for his soul

Prohibition of fluidity, Mahogany must stop dripping. Cracks stop shivering.


Whilst hypocrisy is paramount, Ruby’s throat is dry.

© Copyright 2018 Eilidh Hart. All rights reserved.

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