Decay Poems - Poems about Decay

swimming like lobotomized fish in a psychiatric pond. following to follow— not following to lead. following the leader, following like sheep. the pied piper always made such a fine shepherd for those who don’t think. ...

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Truth be told, or is it so, Is strength bronze or tin? Forever mystery lies so, In this transcended kin. Beneath the rust, a fragile heart, Iron weeps, its strength apart. A veil of secrets, shadows loom, Where truth’s enigma finds its tomb. In fragile echoes, whispers call, Uncertainty befalls, thoughts of chanciness. As ready minds begin to fall, A second thought of unsureness. Though some say...

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I can feel it all burning down, the walls I painted in soft colors, the corners I swept clean for company— they crackle in silence. Instead of exploring other ruins, chasing ghosts in forgotten places, I should stop. Sit with the dust in my own lungs. Run my hands along the scorch marks I never let cool. There is wreckage here I never named. I’ve been walking...

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Say goodbye to May, ...

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she was like a delicate daisy picked apart by her petals the wounds inflicted because she chose to settle what she thought was good made her colors fade a vibrant bright white turned brown then grey but as she disappeared into the ground she planted a seed that began to sprout a new growth was born a new chapter a new life her petals reborn into that...

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I once loved so fully, I cracked open beneath the weight of someone who now feels like fog. He was real— once. But time, and the soft grind of sorrow, wore the shape of him away. Still, my heart thumps, a decrepit engine, rattling on with broken rhythm— every beat a memory I wish I didn’t still want. I ache to return, knowing the knives that wait. I am a snake coiled against fire, slithering back toward pain with my eyes wide open. Even in this ruin, something stirs— a...

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The future won’t arrive with trumpets— no brass echo to herald salvation, no golden scroll unrolled beneath a bleeding sun. It will leak, like soft radiation through the seams of our sleep, like forgotten news, scrolling endlessly on a screen no one is watching. It begins now— in the blinkless eye of the surveillance bee, the hum of servers beneath a monastery, the last human artisan training...

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What would You do, O Father, tell, If I should fade like fleeting mist? Would heaven break, would heavens swell, Or would my absence not exist? Would You still paint the dawn with fire, Though I no longer walk the day? Would You keep faith when hopes expire, Or let the light just slip away? Would You still whisper my lost name, When silence...

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As sunlight paints all in gold A cresting wave Along a distant bay Gulls cry high into a clear sky Its tyrannical son burns all away. Summer has come What beautiful decay As evening dies on horizons blade A splash of crimson Deep in forgotten May Amber n indigo lay lazy on the shores Autumn lingers behind the day What beautiful decay A chill frosts...

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volatile observation suspended amidst reality and fiction, subdued voice echoes down a hallway of convictions; like a despotic fog blurring options for a swarm of insects who eventually finds way to a lizard's grotesque carcass. a feeling, in my gravel ribs, this might be a dead end staring up at the sky, an atheist's hollow vision; air and venom flowing...

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Look out for the flickering lights; I heard some glass shattering shards geting swallowed in the hurricane's tyranny and tyranny pleading at patriarchy's feet. Look out for the desparation; penetrating out of familiar, rough gilded eyes flowers wrapped in hands withering over time and love swirling among the rusted frames    of oldest bus stand of town....

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In a deep indigo night, bright sliver moonlight shines across a barren land. On a lonely hill, a manor stands… its windowed eyes to a world blind. Staring into the void, sublime wind tumbles desolate sands. Broken, old, dried skeletal branches sway the last fleeting remains of a harsh day… A figure bare in bones n thin pale skin standing in the...

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This is your home address, you said Seems like so many years ago Now it’s a memory asset We don’t live there anymore The lawn has grown a bit too high No one shall come to sweep the leaves From the doorstep, and the sky Hangs down low over the hills Your flower beds are in decay No one will care for the...

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We are weary of words, endlessly taken and tossed, Singing day and night without ever being lost. Like the clear moon in the sky, one thing clear: “Fish always decay, starting from the head.” A person who reaches their goal walks with purpose, Thinks carefully before taking their course. A child’s education and upbringing, Is formed first and foremost in the family...

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END TIMES : TWO End time dramas continue to unfold as foretold tribes of Judah and Gad united in ether descending conspiring to pull Matrix strings across rooms boom death Will hidden documents forged a trigger activates illicit action Centre remains perfection resurrection Claim no marriage for money honeyed both are paper thin dust speckled dragonflies glide into geraniums cry Truth mourns hen-chicken...

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