Weaving Empty

Scribes Ink.

Lost in the dark, tangled in silken threads,
to where was I going, to where will I lay?
Caught in an intricate webb, glued with silver knots,
these silken threads which bind me, wash my calm away.
Lost in dark silence, it pierces through my skin,
alone with my monsters, consumed by these threads.
Lost and confused, my bright bubble burst,
these shiny new objects was not my release, they hurt.
Lost in numb richness, silken threads console,
only mere seconds, then hollowness grows.

~ Copyright ©yikici. 2014-infinity.

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