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This Web Is Weary

My dream catcher cries with the intake of these fears. This web is weary. Expunging all this dead weight, what a harsh burden to bare. My friend wove a spell translating to protection. Solace in the dark. Look at what hangs high above, the gift of peaceful slumber. Is desire enough? Will we wake with folded hands? This web is weary. Darkness gets caught in the thread mending what was unraveled.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things