-Joy S. Barefoot
There is a web in which we’re caught.
It is the web of life.
It is a web of great deceit
where good and evil strive.
It is a web of cunning weave.
Its beauty is the snare.
Its lustrous threads gleam in the sun
to draw the dreamer there.
There is no voice that calls to us.
There is no beacon light;
only the diligent weaver’s lair
in glistening, silvery light.
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