Colours fade, bleakness everywhere. No illusions, it’s never easy. Of hatred a gathering storm. Still not burning in the infernal fire of nuclear wars. Life is complicated.
He found no joy and so he knows no pain. He saw no light and so he lives not in darkness. His path only a reflection of thought. He is a spider in a web of his deeds.
He’s a spider. He is webbing to his destiny. Curling and tangling patterns only he understands. Cobwebs of life, seemingly nonsensical. Conceal a terrible meaning.