Webs Poems - Poems about Webs

In the depths of my soul, I weave webs of dreams, where silence whispers forgotten stories, I try to sew the past with threads of stars, but you always find ways to my heart. I see you clearly, even when the light of my eyelids fades, and the world slowly disappears, For you live in the corners of...

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In the silence of the night, when stars weave their silver webs across the deep sky, my thoughts flow like a river of light, carrying with them echoes of memories, words that were once just grains of sand in the desert of a forgotten silence, refrains borrowed from old books, without the weight of a true soul. They sounded...

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Through false truth, the Rus reclaims hegemony, Farming trolls to be enrolled, 'Neath bridges, clowns, see enemies, Puking riddles on those tolled. Then the bots deliver the hurl, Regurgitate into the net, Till truth is common as a pearl, Yet what you see is what you get. Spidered webs entangle yonder, The language largely modeled, And artificial minds are left to ponder, Which words are...

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In the depths of the night, when silence weaves webs of memories and stars slip across the sky like tears of a lost love, Between two kisses that embrace a single dream unfolds a tale of blue and purple, A stellar bird sings, a ballad of madness and forgetfulness, Under the diffused light of a neon painting shadows...

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She glows with focus, a fairy who can truly see. a helium moon bathes her, with bluey light. Quietly she stitches by a sky of amber- red tea. Silk spun messages echo through the night. She sits and mends quietly, and fervently, until eternity is out of sight. ...

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We are born into this time, ensnared by the woven webs of destiny, And on the path of fate, without fear, we step toward the determined end. There is no other way, only the duty to hold onto our lost position, Without hope, without salvation, like that Roman soldier, found among the ruins, His bones before the door in...

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In the labyrinth of time, we weave webs of hope from threads of light and shadows, Wandering souls in the ocean of existence, clinging to dreams like life rafts, We breathe the illusion of progress, an intoxicating air that fills our lungs with promises, And every morning we wake up, once again, on the edge of the abyss...

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too brief … the garland on my brow too deep, that tangled labyrinth of epics, eternal entwining my sinews the dark, deceitful dew sopping sun with the parched lips of laurels … whispering whims - spinning them like sugar into cottony lullabies honey-sweet lies that drip their sticky magic on all the ears they sunder … no thunder - just wild wonder and tender hopes of a breathy kiss the deathly hiss...

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All seasons come with grace and not all fall for them with grace, Nurturing all they preserve, What makes them different from among themselves, We all are like seasons,different in all ways, But commonality makes us alike, We all must prevail, But prevalence breaks when we try to interchange,or break the lines, Escapism is like a ball of lines, One which I can...

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when hearts, so old they turn gray beneath the expressions of faded tears, spun together through pains meant to break – but instead purify and cleanse, penetrate the depths so doubt turns to faith, reckless to safe ...

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Under the delicate veil of reality, unseen worlds weave webs of mystery, There, beneath the clear surface, lie extinguished universes, full of hidden stories. I floated like a child in a dream, feeling the call of these distant realms, With no proof in hand, just a deep premonition that magic and mystery walk hand in hand. In the blue...

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Beautiful webs. Spidery, and the spiders know everything. Now they are cobbling cobwebs. In a basement. The basement is where there are sounds of leaking and creaking. Sounds that are not meaningful. Webbing that used to be like connections and ideas- That are not meaningful these days. The webs waver a bit from the draft in this cold place. The spiders died. And spiders...

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Spider rests on the faded web, content Easy autumn, leaves crumbling into dust, Pastel moon aglow, watches their descent. Joy rises from every momentous gust, Blessings flowing on gentle stardust skies, Easy autumn, leaves crumbling into dust. Amber and gold, chanting songs to chastise, Some nights the heart reflects all the wonders, Blessings flowing on gentle stardust skies. Way up high there abides pulsing...

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too brief … the garland on my brow too deep, that tangled labyrinth of epics, eternal entwining my sinews the dark, deceitful dew sopping sun with the parched lips of laurels … whispering whims - spinning them like sugar into cottony lullabies honey-sweet lies that drip their sticky magic on all the ears they sunder … no thunder - just wild wonder and tender hopes of a breathy kiss the deathly hiss...

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With a bag of spiders collected for my science project A fifth grader’s “Spiders Under The Influence” was the subject Got the idea from a book on the study by a zoologist Shifting the time when spiders built their webs, his quest The pattern of the orbs distorted, the greater the toxicity I knew from reading that they were...

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