Monday, 11 August 2014


A single thread,
as fine as spiders’ silk
- spinning outwards –
into an exquisite, intricate design.
The spider weaves her tapestry,
thread by thread,
laid carefully in place;
it forms, and I see
the completeness of the web,
laced with gold
and images of gods.
An ancient tale
of woe;
lies and deceit;
poverty, pain
and death:
of humanity.
Each individual strand of thought
is brought together,
in the dark and dusty corner
of my mind;
coalescing in beauty.

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