Eye of the hurricane, see my pain
It is small like a spider in a garden, like a mouse in a hole
Miniscule maelstroms only harm those small enough to be caught in their wake
Dewdrops on spider's webs, spun sugar woven into deadly, gossamer homes
One fights only for his meal, the other for his life
Yet it is the spider, the trickster, the poisoned needle, who prevails
Only the insane understand the dream realm, the nonsensical
Festerings of madness plague their minds for all of eternity
Planted there, small as poppy seeds, but grown to monopolize all rationality when watered with the human condition
YOU ARE READING
Nonsensical Poetry Collection
PoetryA nonsensical, somewhat whimsical collection of short poems about whatever catches my fancy. Excerpt: "Miniscule maelstroms only harm those small enough to be caught in them"
