The spiders web grows
Silver strands linked together
To form an octagon trap
The mornings fresh dew
Brings a crystaline effect
The predator of the hedgerow
Awaits with baited breath
A silent observer
To natures surreal beauty
A victim of my own idiocy
Trapped in a prison of shame
The sad smile of innocence lost
As the mind becomes a nightmare
Of relentless echoes of her name
From dust to nothingness
A grit salt grain in an open wound
Can anything be harder to win back
Than a trust twice lost in you?
