the web

Thoughts diminish and reprise
The boundaries of our previous lives
Living in lies inside our minds
We weave a web to our sad demise

We tangle
We turn
We entwine
The truths

We'll tell you stories to thrill and excite
Which we will honestly recite
But underneath these colours which fill
Lies a spectrum painted with a monochrome quill

We weave
We deceive
Clinging to imaginary scenes
Which we In turn will dream and scheme

Believe us this is our final yarn
We'll spin in hope to cafe
Your anger at our sorrowful disorder
As we try in vain to cross the border
Which separate the precise from profound
The FACT from...fiction
There is no so word in our diction

We plan
We create
We invent
We devise

Within us we cannot comprehend
The need in life to condescend
A sense of what is expected
Or deemed excepted

So we'll build and build
Our safe virtual world
With tall tale's piled high
While among the clouds we'll fly

Until with a twist and a sway
Balance is knocked, toppled away
Falling from grace to the ground
With an almighty crashing sound

Buried beneath the ruins
Of our articulate creations
We'll wither and slither in vain
Till we can weave our web again

When we'll spin
We'll contrive
And we'll derive
From our sleeping dreamy lives


Written January 1993 Copyright N.Treadwell