Set ablaze to the web

Kiss me or kill me

it won’t matter to still cells

feeling nothing and numbness

will cast away your spells

the moment before the bang

must’ve been peaceful

and certainly is

but what if the peace knew of the bangs arrival

how would it feel?

Does it soak in all the peace it can endure?or does it get ready for the bangs loud roar? does it feel the pressure perfecting the pearl? or does it rest knowing still nothing has unfurled?

The web has been spun, the game has been won, the waiting game is no fun, we must find our breath whilst we are hung

the match has been lit, set ablaze to the web

meticulously mended time and time again, the tears of the rain have plummeted through the roof, so we spin again, the heavy wind had ripped through the floor, so we spin again, any life, unconscious and conscious have fucked the foundation and broken down the door, and so we spin again.

A passion project patiently prepared, poured from past pain, drank by present remains, feeding a future reign.

In silence this beautiful life was being created, not one sound was heard, to the outsider the spider is quieter than the construction that goes on bellow and to the bellow the above guides the movements of improvements, the destruction of undesirable productions, divinely navigated through the unseen space that will lead to such warm embrace

and so trust it required, believing is needed, faith placed in every space, breathing allows one to feel seeded.

There will come a moment in time where the flame will flourish through the web, now on display, the rains pain will see and not penetrate, the winds bellow will peacefully pass as the last soft vibration of its echoing laugh, any life will cause no strife as the web is set ablaze

it crackles with creativity, glistens with festivities, shines as bright as 6 dimes and sparkles like the sun hitting a glass of wine.

The spectacular spectacle the spider has spun was crafted with patience and love, and now she sits in the center as she calmly waits for all to be drawn to the nectar, greatful for everything drawn in, looking out for the first big win, it will soon come she can feel it wizzing through the realms to reach her very own, so shes healed and decorated her home.

Cosily she drifts off to sleep, her dream are a comfort she looks forward to peep. Listening to messages, jotting down notes, setting sail in her dream boat, collecting clues and accepting blues, she will see soon the fullest versions of her views, visions created with precision, charged by magic and right now met with static, but that will never remove the truth she feels and knows as for soon the muse will be exposed.