An early August Sunday morning on alarm bells,
I was up before everyone else.
Took the bike keys swiveling around my fingers,
Zipped the windcheater without any linger.
Scooted over to the nearest lake shivering.
The windcheater couldn’t cheat those razor-sharp raindrops, I was shuddering.
With blinding sight, I made it safe to the place.
Felt happy, I was far away from any human race.
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Settled myself on a cemented bench,
The panoramic beauty of the serene lake satiated my quench.
Suddenly my eyes caught sight of the railing,
Where I could notice the spider’s artistic cobweb veiling.
Surprised and yelled ,”King Bruce and the spider’s story?”,
I started fiddling with the spider’s web which was gory.
After numerous attempts of my heinous act,
The spider spun again its web with persistence intact.
Read about “The silence after the storm”
This went on from minutes to hours,
Till the monsoon stopped its showers.
Trying to break the spider’s will,
The spider was still at the twill.
To prove King Bruce’s spider story was phony,
The spider flashed a smile of irony.
Webbing my fingers,he trudged towards me,
“I am King Bruce’s spider, trying to break me?”
“My life’s spun in a web, and I won’t let it go off so easy,
What’s your life craving for?”,he asked, leaving me queasy.
Read about “The Herculean hands of the old man”
Let’s be a part of such groups to make a difference and let your efforts be directed. I hope you have a similar story as well to share.
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