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With cool dew waking up the drowsy woods,
Dazed by the perfume of jasmines divine,
Amidst a lush labyrinth of lilting leaves,
Lies a flimsy dwelling of glassy white.

Eight fingers crawl between the latticed blinds
Expanding their fortress, conquering woods,
Circling, ensnaring the innocent fly,
Trapped within blades of the hypnotic web.

Pleased with her might, tarantella performed,
A commanding glory, to her is due -
But a little songbird comes bolting through,
The fortress vanquished, dauntlessly it flew.

Credulous be that flies to traps and death,
With wide wings, rather soar to challenge threats.


- Maryam Kaleem


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