Ruins

something about times of old
the magic of a story told
enchantment, wonder, and romance
the seeming fool's errand of taking a chance

unsaid until the very phrase
the perfect coupling of clarity and haze
unknowing of what the future holds
so long as together it folds

the charm of a broken palace
of all it's past hearts housed
to enter in without malice
praise and awe upon it dowsed

if we know better now
than they knew in the stories
it is only because of how
in their ruins, we see the glories

marvel every broken piece
every cobbled floor
fingers tingle at each parchment's crease
every dent adore

Ruin, you see
makes enchantment.
The wonder and romance enhancement.

Beauty, to me
is when he or she
embraces and learns how to dance it.

but in order to be
something naturally
another must the ruin see
and know to chance it

something about the times of old
the magic of a story told
each crack, dent, pebble, and break
the reason for your wonder make.