Imprints and Impressions

...yet...yet...
nothing prevents me from weaving my dreams-
my dream of love, my love of dreams;
so, I weave with silver thread
like my friend, Incy-wincy does...



She weaves her home, her shelter
I weave my dreams, my world
in perfect symmetry.
my silver world looks frail
like Incy-wincy spider's home...



..but sways in perfect harmony in the
breeze so soothing,calm and fresh;
My dream world shimmers in the golden rays
of hope, and adorns silver beads
in nature's shower of happiness...



I am the queen of my world of dreams
built with breeze and rays and beads
in symmetry, in harmony.
I see my friend reign her home
with watchful eyes and outstretched legs...



A next glance at her swaying home
strikes me with a bitter truth-
the symmetry has turned a trap,
a treacherous, deceiving labyrinth
to whoever trespassed her home, her web...



..."but mine is a harmless world of dreams,
welcoming all who wish to share
my silver world in symmetry".
Thus, in vain I tell myself,
but not before brushing a calm qualm aside...

I wondered why none came to my world
to share my breeze and rays and beads...
...till I was shocked to be shaken from my shade
to find my world was a labyrinth
that let in none, but preyed on its queen...

The breeze was a tornado,
the rays, sparks of fire
and the beads were a whirlpool
that twisted and twirled my
buds, blossoms and withered petals...

First, they covered, then they shrouded,
sending in spasms, not of pain, but
euphoria, for, I am dying in my dreams!
Still.. O,still, I weave my dreams,
My dream of love, my love of dreams.