The Beauty In Falling Apart

Meet me in the musty woods
Where the pine-cones lure the chipmunks
And the impish wind dances with fog
Where the ferry boat halts at a nameless jetty
To watch the sunset in between her endless trips.

But there is no in-between
Across the space of ecstasy and standstill
Where melancholy seeps in
Through the bed of mildew
And the dim-light of the evening sun.

Meet me in the musty woods
Where the silence belongs
To the lovers of chance
Where hearts crumble
Echoing the beauty in falling apart.

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