We’re living in the year of the spider
Of woven golden silken thread
Of sticky drippy weave filled dread
That capture small fly’s that stray.
Cobwebs that spiders climb each day
Up ladders in the sky filled room
That spells a fly’s quiet doom
As the spider toy’s to play.
This is the year of the spider,
All fly’s take note with dread.
You only keep the spider fed
In those cobwebs so enticing to climb.
this can be related to life it self onces fight with self, doubts being the cobwebs and flys being us, if one alouds their fears doubts insecurities overwelm they'll be fed upon. a great write
regard to you in the world of spider with their web a modern poem mat par with modernity
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well that sums up the life of a spider. Watch out flies