4 result(s) for Decay Magic Poems.
These poems are completely original - not copied from anywhere. Feel free to use them however you want.
Whispers of Mold
In shadows deep, where lost spells lie,
Moldy pages breathe a silent sigh.
Whispers of magic, faded and frail,
Tell tales of wonders that once set sail.
Ink long dried, with secrets confined,
Each crumbling leaf, a dream intertwined.
Hexes and charms, in dust they remain,
Fragments of power, a ghostly refrain.
A touch of decay, where beauty erodes,
Forgotten enchantments through silence explodes.
In the heart of the mold, stories unfold,
Of dreams that played out, now silent and cold.
Whispers of Worn Walls
In crumbling corners, shadows creep,
Forgotten words that silence keep.
Echoes of spells, in dust enshrined,
Magic once vibrant, now intertwined.
Moss-clad stones sing tales of old,
Incantations, whispered, bold.
A flicker of power, now faintly glows,
As time weaves its tapestry, nobody knows.
Chanted by lips long turned to ash,
In the silence, memories clash.
Decayed enchantments, in twilight dwell,
Where the heart of magic beats, a hushed farewell.
Whispers of the Moss
In emerald shadows where secrets dwell,
Moss-covered runes weave a spell,
Ancient tales in whispers wind,
Of lost worlds and those left behind.
Each symbol rich with stories told,
In dampened silence, they slowly unfold,
Forgotten lore in their soft embrace,
Calling forth ghosts of time and place.
With fingers tracing the velvet green,
One feels the pulse of the unseen,
Magic of ages, decay's sweet kiss,
In nature’s cradle, we find our bliss.
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Whispers of the Wilted
In gardens where the blossoms fade,
Once vibrant hues in light displayed,
A subtle song of memories flows,
As petals fall, the magic goes.
The lavender sighs, the roses weep,
In twilight’s hush, their secrets keep,
Each wilting flower, a tale untold,
Of whispered dreams and magic bold.
Once kissed by sun, now draped in night,
They hold the past, the fading light.
With every droop, old stories stir,
In fragrant ghosts, the memories blur.
So let them wilt—these faded charms,
For in their decay, life's beauty warms,
A fleeting spell of joy and grace,
In relics of love, we find our place.
