Beauty stands and stares into the distance
aloof and distant, feigning disinterest,
the curtain of its youthful skin
fully drawn and cloaking the bones within.
The moonlight shadows concealing
that which is considered shameful,
but nature knows its true worth.
The beholder’s eye captures the scene,
a moment becomes a memory.
Death, biding its time,
boldly stands its ground and slowly
turns it back on the ephemeral,
wanders into the melting moon’s glow
as surely as only fate can,
while beauty measures and mourns
its fading steps.