Silver Lining

A coin of old,
A coin of rust,
A coin of mould,
Lay in the dust.

Abandoned in the attic,
Discarded away,
Its future traumatic,
For it is here to stay.

Its power unknown,
Its luck unmatched,
As if created from moonstone,
Its strength none matched.

A smell of rust lay in the air,
Its indentations slowly fading,
For all those lucky enough to bare,
There would a be great cascading.

But still it lay in the corner,
Its copper light shining,
Only growing coarser,
Hoping for a silver lining.