The Beauty Of Wasting Away

by Arcticus
  • February 19, 2012
  • Poetry
  • Narrative · Realistic
  • Pre-2014
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It hides in an old snow covered heart
like the books on the top shelf
it's a verse that churns the souls that reads it
like a voice from the blue.

the travellers had their gaze low
tired from the dust and heat
getting closer to the town they heard voices
and cackles and tunes and screams.

will they stop for a glass of water?
should I hand my heart to you?
I fear I might lose my honesty
I hate the way you turn away.

the grave-digger had no answer to my questions
the snake-charmer was busy counting his gold
beauty died in the cold december
she rests in peace with an epitaph of silence.

I've been searching the ruins
and I've been studying the decaying remains
they left empty homes, and immortal deeds
and the beauty of wasting away.

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anna91423
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anna91423 commented · Sun Feb 19, 2012 9:19 pm

You write in an entrancing, eerie, and beautiful way. This poem is stunning and difficult to forget. I particularly loved the 4th stanza. Well done, I wish I could write like this!



Every generation laughs at the old fashions, but follows religiously the new.
— Henry David Thoreau