Wings beating
up and down
struggling
no one around

Legs appear
across the threads
delicate yet seemingly unbreakable
THE VIBRATIONS grow

The spider knows
what is held in its web
the weight screams
a butterfly is caught

Unknowing of approaching death
just frustration of its
flight cut short
trapped unable to break free

A meal for the spider soon to be
unless I can break it free
a simple push on certain points
and the intricate picture
falls free of the tree

And a butterfly lifts up
high as it catches a new breeze
Yet what of the spider that needs to eat?
Why is its beauty not appreciated?

Will it always be the one?
To suffer for whom it is
and will no one come to its aid
but be willing to crush it under a heel

What is acceptable in nature?
Is not always so in humans
for the beautiful are held up high
and the ugly cast aside
So it seems



THE ROGUE