Sometimes I feel scared.
At times I feel alone
but it’s only when I’m up against the wall
that I realize that I’m up against it all.
Recently, I’ve lost my veil.
My wings have been clipped
and my feet have been shackled.
As I lay facing down in my web
and gaze into nothingness.
I attempt to stand up
and take a tumble.
I’m used to getting back up.
I’m bruised and calloused,
yet I’ve never healed.
It's never bothered me till now
because my weakened knees
have been forced to take a bow.
And now I see as clear as a hawk
that I’ve been preying upon myself.
I’ve been getting up too quick.
I’ve cast aside every little nick.
Now that my silk thread has grown grimy.
It’s time to snip it and fall down below
because then I’ll be able to atone
and weigh but a single stone.