The Web

4 1 0
                                        

I stand at the center of a web, a web that is a maze with many turns and dead ends. I fumble my way through the web, trying to find my way out. I stumble around, and I'm met with blockade after blockade, keeping me from finding the end of this webbed maze. After what seems like hours for I have lost all track of time, for I am stuck with in this web with no escape insight.

Twisted Little Poems For The Broken Soul Where stories live. Discover now