You wanted a haunting garden. So you draped this fake web over the flowers I depend on. I hovered close, searching for nectar and the threads closed in. Its not festive. Its a snare. My struggle is no show. Its the end of me.

You wanted a haunting garden.
So you draped this fake web
over the flowers I depend on.
I hovered close, searching for nectar
and the threads closed in.
Its not festive. Its a snare.
My struggle is no show.
Its the end of me.

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