Look left, look right
look up and down
this world is yours to grasp
But how, you ask, can tiny fingers cage this winding land?
Skeins of yarn that track behind
this tattered blanket's end
Scurl and furl, the webs of fate
knit in seeming whim
A spiders web, intricate order
cast in gossamer strands
To trap and tremble sweet memories,
the prey this spider hunts
No different are these imag...

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Fate comes, though we see it not
Time treads onward, however we dig in our heels
Vigilance toward one threat leads to negligence of another,
and the cruel limits of mortality aren't shy in their reminder
It is this ceaseless grasping at what can only slip through our fingers,
this continued effort at being or creating something which stands outside time that withers our hearts so.
Desire and...

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