Tragedy of wanderer

Scribbling:

“Spiders, for all the reasons cannot get over the fact that they are prisoner of their habit of weaving webs which ultimately proves fatal to them more than anyone else, which is bound to be their graveyard, yet they can’t help it. They must continue with putting webs all around, they must prepare themselves to be swallowed in their own webs in all their silence and solitude at their strongest, for if they could break away from it, so does their prey. They make it bigger and stronger every day, little by little, they add saliva and blood to it, and they ensure it is strong enough to strangle a life out of fluttering wings despite all those violent resistance to get away from it, but it must remain in vain. No life should escape its deadly strings.

Words work more or less on similar pattern, words are little web one puts while sitting leisurely watching sun set behind hazy sky through sea-shore, or in early tranquil hours of sunrise, aiming to scribble what pleases his heart, not knowing every words uttered could come back to haunt in its most killer forms, and when they do, one often has nowhere to run to. One cannot defend against own words, for they come mostly at darkest of hours when one is at vulnerable best. It takes life on its will, as and when it pleases and one cannot do anything but watch it helplessly suck the blood out of its veins in the dark of night while sipping a glass of liquor having no anticipation of such nightmare, but probably that’s how scribbling works, no?.

it was one such night of horror and death, while those words turning most scariest of killers, silent at their best, precise like sting of desert scorpion, venom of it spreading across face of their victim as he watched in terror approaching them approach towards him, he knew there were no escape and he must let them finish their job as swiftly as possible. May be at his heart he knew of it, he could sense it for a long time and had made up his mind little by little thinking of any such outcome. And there he was, it was not so painful after-all as he watched himself fall like a shadow just before the lamp flickers for one last time, as bright as it could be, as strong as he could be, only to rest in peace (piece?) ever after. Alas!”