Crimson crescent moons
On a pale, skin colored sky
Jaw clenched tightly
As to halt the flood of words
That so desperately wished to be free
That so violently beat
Against the back of my teeth
Threatening to break down that dam
Unchain these lips
And ruin all hope of success

Knives so sharp in my back
I can almost taste the run of metallic blood
Stoic, that is what I must achieve
Stone is what I must resemble
The trickle of diamonds
Down my hard, rigid cheeks
Made little difference
And the falling of rubies
From that sky of crescent moons
Went unnoticed by his sapphire eyes

All he sees is gold
But a pot of gold is not
Awaiting at the end of this rainbow
Only a figure of granite
Crying diamonds
And bleeding rubies
With an empty space in her chest
Where her torn heart
Used to reside