Life is tugging from many directions and it feels being ripped apart. Having sanity hang from a silk thread. The escapes are away from the internet and disconnect from everyone to calm my heart. I welcome you to the …
Web of Intrigue!
The world a web
of intrigue and suspicions.
of every colour
waiting for a pray to call to their stomachs.
legs screech across fine thread.
Fangs like swords bleed the helpless
caught in their little cocoon hung above the heads.
Waiting to fall down ad crumble a life away.
Bricks and glass
the homes in which we feel safe
nesting siblings of widows
setting out onto the plains.
Dew drops the only link
to nature, drizzle to the centre before
dropping on corpses, cooperate heads
and meagre workers like ants
robotised awaiting to becoming hunters
of smaller prey.
Each string is pulling on many others
incorporated lives, belonging to everyone
no one and a single person.
Dictated to follow paths while hanging on a silk tread.
Life’s balance act can throw you off
in front of the army of the lions hungry
waiting to be king in earth’s web.
Being pulled, pushed
watching connections getting cut,
cutting to preserve my own.
My life is directed
from which I want to be set free.
Caught in the net, tangled in despair with others
I tread carefully not to break my own.
Each is connected, unaware of being hunted,
or oblivious of the game they set their eyes upon.
thin is the thrust and life lines
in world’s web.
Still struggling to get my head on straight. Running, pushed and pulled to places I rather not go. Little to no places to call my own and wind back up my being. Hanging in there, somewhere and trying my best to fit in the person I want to be the most.