The Woman In The Web

The Woman In The Web

She did not see the threads at first take hold,

They shimmered soft, almost too light to fear,

A gentle pull, a story slowly told,

A voice that felt too close, too warm, too near.

He spun his words like silk around her mind,

Each promise laid with careful, quiet art,

A touch of charm, a way both sweet and kind,

That wrapped its way around her open heart.

At first it felt like something safe and true,

A place to rest, a hand that understood,

No warning sign within the fragile view,

No hint of what beneath that surface stood.

Threads grow tight, that once felt so thin,

They start to pull in ways you cannot see,

And slowly they begin to draw you in,

Until you lose the thought of being free.

Her world grew small, she could not explain,

Why every step now felt so hard to take,

Why love began to carry quiet pain,

Why something deep inside began to break.

His voice would change, though never all at once,

A shift so slight it almost passed her by,

A colder tone, a silence edged with wants,

A truth that lived behind a careful lie.

She tried to leave, but something held her still,

A tightening grip that would not let her go,

Not chains you see, but something stronger will,

A web that only those inside can know.

When she moved, threads would pull her back,

With guilt, with fear, with words that bent her mind,

A tangled path that lost its steady track,

A maze where freedom slowly turned to blind.

She questioned self, her strength began to fade,

The mirror showed a face she did not know,

A woman lost within a trap he made,

Still searching for the self she used to show.

And somewhere deep, a voice began to rise,

So faint at first, yet steady all the same,

A truth that cut through all his woven lies,

A quiet spark that would not die in shame.

The web may hold, but not forever tight,

For even silk can break when pulled apart,

And one small tear can let in needed light,

Enough to guide a worn and wounded heart.

She breathes it in, that fragile, growing thread,

Not his, but hers, a strength she thought had gone,

And though the web still trembles where she’s led,

A part of her is learning to move on.

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