there’s a universe of them
a dead-end place for the u the fateful location of a
n m
g b
u i
i t
d i
e o
d n
a grave spot for fly or moth where spiders spin their deadly geometry
and trapped without questions they struggle with instinctual fear survival
for those stuck in any life pursuit their minds become the webbed prisoner
caught in the why’s” especially the weeping one - Why me God?
and wrapped in the silken ropes of confusion and despair we wait for
answers from the yawning mouth of a black universe
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