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Ayn
Poems
Apr 2020
Foundry
The spiders glide in night by night,
Following a trail, light by light.
On top of the webs stand the spiders,
Ready to attack all threats with lighters.
A schism of venom to fill the cracks
Of the pieces that have always fit
And a wall is lifted upon their backs;
A webbed foundation of grit.
I know it means a metalworks, but foundry also sounds like a place where foundations are made.
#spiders
#foundation
#civilization
#life
Written by
Ayn
20/M/Wherever I May Roam
(20/M/Wherever I May Roam)
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