Araneae

In a web of lies and truth
The spider just casually crawls
Through its prey
Spindling, feeding, living
Not living yet not leaving
Fixing and living
Surviving.
It's another day,
and the web shall be mended on and on
Thinner than a thread.
What if I just hang on it
With my head
Rattled, chewing every single day
Every single prey
I pray
Wherefore art thou still living
Am I
Still living?
The horizon doesn't end.
It doesn't make sense.