the "interweb"

the "interweb"

A Poem by winter;lyra

here where we hide
we built this little pulp fiction of ours
soon enough a fly is bound to fall
and, to his surprise
find himself more at home than at loss

but tho comfortable at times, one can never rest
that spider is the one unseen but felt demon
that one that breeds our evil

© 2017 winter;lyra


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Added on October 28, 2017
Last Updated on October 28, 2017