Cobweb of Hers

Isn’t it beautiful?
Threads with threads,
Patterns with patterns,
Weaving a destiny
That binds the vicinity.

Isn’t it beautiful?
With knots in lots,
She mends the holes,
Opens her eyes
To give her soul.

Isn’t it beautiful?
A grip so strong,
Never letting go,
Even though the wind,
Tying it in a row.

Isn’t it beautiful?
Bruises on hands,
Wounds in heart,
Proving that love comes
Even without a cost.

But is it beautiful?
Woven with love,
Woven when forced—
Her cobweb, so delicate,
Yet never truly hers.