the weaver (poem)

Watching from a distance

jealous of their flight

you build yourself a web

to ensnare all of their light

Those flies you keep on trapping

will one day break free

whether it be their choice

they will not go silently

Keep building your web of lies, little spider

and you won't know when it's time to cut the strings

the puppets you thought were yours

have their own free will

if you do not let them free

they will one day go still

for if you decide to free their fate

wait too long, 

and it will be too late

There's blood in your web, little spider

you should have cut the strings

those flies were never meant for eating

yet you let them writhe in fear

but now the rain has come

and your web has washed away

will you leave it as it is

or will you build it up again