Decay

Decay

Nothing arrives already broken,

it changes where no eyes remain,

a slow surrender hidden beneath surface,

a quiet unravelling without a name.

The corners hold what people miss,

dust settling where warmth once stayed,

time moves softly through old spaces,

until strength begins to fade.

The colours lose their certainty,

edges soften into grey,

the things once trusted to stay forever,

slowly learn to drift away.

Decay speaks in patient moments,

never asking to be seen,

it lives inside forgotten places,

between what was and what has been.

No sudden collapse announces it,

no warning written in the air,

only small unnoticed absences,

showing something is no longer there.

Old wood carries hidden weakness,

walls remember years gone by,

even silence changes shape,

though nobody asks why.

What disappears leaves traces,

echoes folded into space,

proof that endings rarely arrive loudly,

they simply alter the face.

Yet even through quiet breaking,

something remains in the view,

because not everything changed vanishes,

some things become something new.

#Marie381UkWriter