Spider Art

Its architecture The real manual Made of squares and polygons Scudding with the flow of wind Wishy -washy movements that is transparent Even as the flap of a bubble Roots are not clear A real creation not meant by manpower A snowy raw that snub his thoughts Even can hang for his life time Real creator a spider Who is lament for his prey? Patience is his treasure A far thought from human Time may bend him, but not forever Glitter will attract the dupe The copious confidence will trap the creature It’s beyond his act The cremation forever Who is the real convict? One who is trapped in ambitions? Or who wait to get it Ambitions are the terminators And wisdom a credit to life ©2014 SALINI.S.NAIR. All rights reserved.