Gray Mosquito Net

A canopy of gauze, a mist of gray,

Suspended dreams where shadows play.

It hangs, a scrim against the night,

A fragile fortress, a ghostly light.

Its threads, so fine, a spider's art,

Weaving a web to shield the heart.

From hungry mouths and buzzing wings,

A sanctuary where solace springs.

I lie beneath, a captive caught,

In mesh-made walls, a prisoner fraught.

Yet, in this prison, peace resides,

A quiet calm where spirit hides.

I watch the world through veils of gray,

A muted canvas where dreams convey.

The moon, a pearl, a ghostly sphere,

Casts silver shadows, calm and clear.

The stars, like diamonds, scattered bright,

Twinkling through the net’s soft light.

A cosmic ballet, a silent show,

Where dreams and wishes softly grow.

I feel the night, a gentle breath,

As if the world is hushed to death.

A stillness deep, a sacred space,

Where time suspends its swift embrace.

The net, a barrier, a fragile art,

Protects the self, the tender heart.

From unseen foes, it sets me free,

A guardian angel, wild and free.

Yet, as I lie, I wonder why,

This need for shelter, this longing cry.

For in the darkness, I am bound,

A captive soul, forever drowned.

I yearn to break these silken chains,

To dance beneath the open plains.

To feel the wind upon my face,

And lose myself in endless space.

But fear holds fast, a chilling dread,

Of what may lurk beyond the bed.

So I remain, a prisoner still,

Within this net, against my will.

A paradox of hope and fear,

A captive soul, holding dear

The fragile safety of this place,

A prisoner caught in time's embrace.

And so I lie, beneath the net,

A silent vigil, a solemn set.

Awaiting dawn, a new day's start,

When I may rise, a healed heart.