Just like the spider weaves its web, I too craft a masterpiece of my own. Instead of silky strands, I weave my creation from sorrow and pain, intertwining them with the fabric of my life. Lost in the pattern, my mind drifts away from reality. I weave and weave, but it's that one almost-perfect weave that suddenly knots me. It's then I reflect on what I've done. Like the spider, do I pause to reshape or do I continue in an endless cycle until I run out of silk? Do I seize the opportunity to create my own story or should I keep with the pattern and routine I know so well?

© TheWritingsofApollo

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