June 17, 2009

It came down to your devil ways

Left, I was,
to ruminate your devilry;
for, what is left behind
...but a broken web?
Thin lines woven and
tangled over years,
precursors to the ropes
keeping me down;
constantly knotted by
your tricksie fingers,
spinning to the tune
of your own little lies...
who knows what kind
of knots you'll make.

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