The spider sits,
Waiting,
Waiting,
Waiting.

He waits,
Patient,
In his web of time.

The countless seconds,
minutes,
hours he waits.

The countless days,
weeks,
months that he lives.

Always waiting.

His web, made of moments,
Moments waiting,
Just to live.

Waiting for prey,
to fall,
so naive,
into his trap.

The spider,
he waits.
The most patient of them all.