#CracksInLife

Betwixt the stones of certainty,
A fissure births — so slight to see,
Like whispered doubts that gently creep,
Through bastions built too proud, too deep.

'Midst velutinous thoughts that spin,
(Those grieflings dancing deep within),
The crevice grows with quondam grace,
Till truth and trust lose form and face.

Each morrow brings fresh rents unfurled,
Like spiderwebs of...