Cacophony

१

We are a sad, beautiful, broken thing.
We are old bones of a castle,
a pitiful (e)state.
We are fading and being erased,
like words on sand by a wave.
We are selfish thieves,
stealing what the other desires the most.
We are scavengers, trifling through the dead
hoping for a decent meal.
We are a story,
Whose. End. You. Just. Don't. Want. To. Read.
We are the toys, horribly outgrown
but loved by the child, nevertheless.
We are the face of an old woman,
where beauty once reigned.
We are old, ill-suited lovers,
all they've ever known is each other.
We are a shadow,
to the once incandescent light of us.
We are a mistake,
borne out of mutual enemies and lack of choices.
We are a sad, beautiful, broken thing.
— what are we?