In the whispering hush of twilight's embrace,
Where the shadows weave a delicate lace,
An orb weaver spins with silent grace,
Her web a marvel, a celestial trace.Each silken thread, a dream unfurled,
A tapestry spun in a secret world,
She dances alone, in the moonlight's curl,
Her artistry poised, like a precious pearl.In a quiet room, a boy does wait,
His heart a cocoon, his dreams ornate,
With patient eyes, he contemplates fate,
Bound by a web only time can create.His fingers tap to the rhythm of hope,
Tracing patterns on the fringes of scope,
In the web of life, he's learning to cope,
Each day a strand, each breath a rope.The spider's web glistens with morning dew,
A testament to what patience can do,
The boy, inspired by the spider's view,
Sees his own dreams woven, vivid and true.For in the web of time, both boy and beast,
Find strength in the threads that never ceased,
Their patience a feast, their worries released,
In the delicate balance, their fears are pieced.So the orb weaver spins, and the boy does wait,
In the gentle embrace of a shared fate,
Their stories entwined, their spirits elate,
In the timeless web, where dreams resonate.
YOU ARE READING
Echoes of My Soul: A Journey in Verse
PoetryEchoes of My Soul is a raw, unapologetic collection of poetry that delves into the dark corners of the human experience. Through verses that burn with anger, seethe with hatred, and ache with pain, the author reveals the struggle of confronting life...