Decrepit by Dusk

Sadistic
Immemorial fiend
Friend of the night
Only seen in my dreams

Biting on the rust
Vigorously
Laboring fingers
Dismantling beam

He is motionless
Standing among his decay
Without a thought
His eyes purging rays

Forceful insist
Exploration
Of a tattered factory lot
His lucid vibrations

Without concern
He brought rot to this place
He is corrosion
Flesh-less face

You cannot slow down
You cannot halt
He brings steel and iron
To the levels of the asphalt

Denied all warning
Brought ills to the wood
Beware our friend decay
It is ash where he stood

Death to the structures
Built to be safe
Pride for an object
Now brought down by age

Consistent his love
Of the new-morrow's shake
Termites, rats, and maggots
Enthusiastically partake

His name is Decay
Partnered by ash and dust
This world of ours -
Decrepit by dusk

Reviews

[Ian Gilmour]

What are we building? Socially we build networks of friends, relationships, resumes, credibility, yet it seems that sometimes the only other thing all people share in common is our common bond of destruction, both accidental and purposeful. This is my favorite poem of yours so far. It stretches the paradox of rise and fall, by our own hands, both literally and figuratively, and comments too, ever so subtly, on the big question: Are the things we lose taken from us, or do we give them up?

[Zack Valenta]

Wow! Incredible! You have managed to pick my brain via my own work. Most of the time I am lost in the writing sometimes don't know what I am writing or what it could mean. But you manage to show me, and it truly is spot on! Thank you

[brian mclaughlin]

your write wakes thoughts giving me much to think about.

[Matching Socks]

Just building off of Ian's review...

Theses things are neither taken nor given up, a flame extinguishes, living things will grow old, rot, DECAY.
It's true for relationships as well. The 'fairy tale' true love, the 'soul mate' do these things exist forever, or for the moment. It can't sizzle strong for a lifetime. We grow together as people, and we slowly age and die. There's beauty in both. When you look at an elderly face you can see that they have LIVED but that they are that much closer to being SIX FEET UNDER.

Your turn to visit me now. :)

[Zack Valenta]

Thanks so much! You got it!

[Writer at last! Sky ~]

Zack they way you framed the words is something really had made this poem more beautiful by its tone and not just only by its meaning. Sometime the dream decay shows us the reality of life! Good work and Nice poem!

[Zack Valenta]

Thank you! True!