Life Is So Much Like The Cobweb.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: May 18, 2018

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Submitted: May 18, 2018

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Life is so much like that silken cobweb; at times shimmering like a majestically untamed prince; in due allegiance under the iridescently silvery light of the moon,

Life is so much like that inexplicable cobweb; at times just disintegrating into a countless bits and pieces; without the slightest of ostensible reason or rhyme,

Life is so much like that royal cobweb; at times triumphantly swirling towards the highest epitomes of success; even as the most blasphemously perverted of hell torrentially reigned down upon planet divine,

Life is so much like that floundering cobweb; at times haplessly tripping down on an infinite occasions; just as its spider would be subjected to; whilst just a centimeter away from the zenith of victory,

Life is so much like that insuperable cobweb; at times uniting every thread; religion; caste; creed; tribe alike; into an impregnably amalgamated religion of selfless  humanity,

Life is so much like that uncanny cobweb; at times frightening the very guts of your innermost soul; as you just nimbly brushed past it; even in the most blazingly peerless of daylight,

Life is so much like that priceless cobweb; at times each infinitesimal strand of which; was hopelessly and lecherously incomplete; without the other; without symbiotically coalescing with the other,

Life is so much like that surreptitious cobweb; at times stealthily skulking only past ghoulish midnight; when even the sadistically venomous annals of death had  transiently slept,

Life is so much like that infallible cobweb; at times forming and agglutinating with such faithful relationships; which were invincibly blessed and eternally inseparable,

Life is so much like that inscrutable cobweb; at times wholesomely obscuring its very identity; in the enigmatically titillating labyrinths of shrunken oblivion,

Life is so much like that glimmering cobweb; at  times scintillating with the richness of naturally panoramic creation; enlightened to full and profound glory of enchantingly mesmerizing existence,

Life is so much like that cowardly cobweb; at  times shriveling to the size of a pea; at even the most evanescent talk of danger; about to paralyze and set in,
Life is so much like that candid cobweb; at times revealing even the minutest of its evolutions and fibers; indefatigably and in each instant of the flamboyant sweltering Sun; and sensuously nubile night,

Life is so much like that livid cobweb; at times unfurling into its most impotent shades of infidelity; when the network of manipulative prejudice dismally collapses into wholesome nothingness,

Life is so much like that unending cobweb; at times impregnably harboring billions of symbiotically enthralling networks in its swirl; feeding them interminably with the juices of its perennial compassion,

Life is so much like that unabashed cobweb; at times wholesomely allowing itself to be unstoppably caressed and fondled; by every wantonly wastrel speck of air that it encountered in its way,

Life is so much like that innocuous cobweb; at times metamorphosing itself into that newborn child once again; entirely unbridled with inexhaustible caravans of creativity; sparkling from every of its stride,

Life is so much like that dangerous cobweb; at times being irretrievably trapped into a maze of hopelessly confounded uncertainties; and sucked deeper and deeper into the mortuaries of worthlessness,

And life is so much like that voluptuous cobweb; at times inevitably enticing every ounce of goodness in the Universe to magnetically mélange with its unassailable colors; to craft victoriously mellifluous dimensions of a brilliantly unfettered tomorrow.


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