Among flowers of dazzling beauty, under the sky of unfulfilled and lost dreams
Among flowers of dazzling beauty, under the sky of unfulfilled and lost dreams,
I see graceful webs, meticulously woven, like a dance of passion in the morning light,
No proud architect can create such a veil of illusions and hidden mysteries,
The sticky dreams of deep melancholy whisper of endings that lurk silently.
Hidden teeth, like shadows, await the unknowing, the thirsty, the greedy for life and longing,
The coiling of captive life writhes, screams with a chilling voice, like a dream turned nightmare,
The spider's feast, short and rich, is a dance of death savored in secret with each twitch,
No curious eye dares to look at the cry of death descending like an unseen curse.
At dusk, the web descends from the canopy sky to taste the prey with its greedy and hungry eyes,
Death embraces a martyr, wraps it in silk threads and gently cradles it on a thin strand,
Flower buds rejoice in the morning, marveling at the multitude of spiders that have come to life,
A cloud of spiders takes flight on air currents, guided by unseen and silent winds, like destiny.
Each thread of the web is a chapter from the unknown story of the world hidden under petals and leaves,
While flowers bow to the eternal dance, the cycle of life and death, of creation and destruction,
Dreams woven with care unravel towards the high sky, like whispers of time that never sleeps,
And when the sun sets, shadows lengthen, spiders retreat, and the night whispers forgotten tales.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
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