Catcher Of The Fly
By forest_for_ever
Thu, 11 Jul 2019
- 393 reads
Catcher Of The Fly
Silk-spun, deadly strands of death
Sparkle in the morning sun.
Webs of wonder memory woven.
Octuplet legs tread deftly
On safe non-stick strands
Alternate threads of no return
Invisible to the innocent
Fly by flies blind to doom;
The reaper lies motionless
In its parlour of fatal gloom.
A rapid dance embalms the catch
Back to the parlour
And wait for more flies to hatch.
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