Ruby ribbons of rich black syrup,
Dripping, slipping to water’s edge,
To sink, and swell, bludgeoning out.
A ripple, a fractal, crossing clear glass,
A chant of words, a spell, a token,
This ancient ritual that runs so deep,
Skimming past bones, rushing through veins,
Sinking, deep, into eternal abyss.
The sap of life, enriched with garnets,
Emeralds, sapphires, or onyx in the end,
These precious treasures we treasure such so,
For without them, most surely, perish, would we.