8. Spider Webs

Open a window for a view of the world
and stare past it all,
the horizon is only a boundary to the limited imagination.
And the storm fronts grazing on the other side are still days away,
but they smell our fear and grow strong feeding on our weakness.
Praying to gods, and preying on gods we find comfort in the kill.
The weak will live and the strong will die,
as the victor rewrites his story,
to be the Cinderella storied, thorn in evil's eye.

If belief is only as far as the eye can see,
then I don't believe in anything,
because I can't see anything worth believing in here.

The price is too high to buy into such pride,
and the value of stock in life is on the decline.
Interest is rising, but only in a financial respect:
our minds have long ceased payment of their attention.

Spanning only the shortest distance over the shallowest trenches.
We deal in no business with the darkest abysses,
while arms reach only for more of what they already hold.

Belief must be further than what the eye can see,
because here I can't see anything,
anything that deserves to be believed.

So, we make believe in spider webs,
spinning reality into catching designs -
more than the trappings of life -
intricacies illumined in the right light.
Still, no one takes notice of what you've spun
outside the window;
they won't look.
When the storms arrive, the glass holds the rain at bay,
no one notices they came, still seeming so far away.
It may well have remained beyond the horizon.

Open a window for a better view of the world,
and stare past it all.