Cobwebs

I get inspired by the weirdest, smallest things. I'm watching a music video and there's some cobwebs or something blowing in an industrial fan and as if a light bulb switches on in my head; this.

Cobwebs caught in the fantastical
Smoke hissing from a ruined throat
I'll leave you be, but first you must tell me
Why he's hanging there like a painting
 
Seamless design, but crippled inside
Reptilian remnants crawl and devise
A way to lay claim to something that's mine
Come with me and I'll give you your sight
Too many are blind, too many unformed
In the far-reaching forest of consequence
 
Cobwebs gag me when I try to tell the truth
The ghosts were real all along
The ghosts were in you
But through these spaces they move
To the rhythm of a different sort of world
 
Like cockroaches through cracks in the wall
Our enemies
No, friends
Like to visit us at night
They like to see how deep we sleep
And how much pain can rouse the deepest dreamer
 
Cobwebs blowing in the fan
Bring echoes our way to mingle with the now
Demented and sanguine caretakers
Are rebuilding their homes in the holes
They made when they came in from the cold

The End

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