A scarred, ugly face, Beady eyes-
Glittering with desolate desperation
A torn dress- the colour of melancholia-
drags itself
As she speaks to the creatures on the wall
A sudden change in the eyes,
She runs across the ruined room
Finds what she was searching for-
The blue box of red rubies.
Storms settle, as she clutches them close
Fondly, carefully caressing the stones.
A sudden scowl on the face
And quietude mates with hysteria,
Haunted by a memory, she screams,
Screams as madness beckons her again.
The only portrait on the wall,
A striking woman in a scarlet dress
Breeding in her stance, rubies on her neck
A manicured mannequin of perfection
With a composure that flawlessly belies-
The madness that lay inside
