There is no Folly in Withering

Decades old
Still decaying and still
withering

Born from the
stain of an old
sweater

There's blood on
an aging wooden
floor

There is numbness
still somewhere inside
this heart

There is sadness
still somewhere inside
these thoughts

There is no joke
there is no smile
that can hide

The joyous inability
of joy
when one is in touch
with withering

There is no folly
in withering