Web.

Web.

They make humans bend, they slip into one's mind; enamoured the soul and enrich the existence of poor souls. They are false promises and easily manipulate to fit one's needs They are malleable and can become an instant joke. Webs of words, the deadliest of killers, the cruelest of tortures. If entrapped by them, one can become a shell of oneself, a mere mortal an easy target to be subjected to their sadistic ways. Words can be knives, each surgically precise to cut one down to the core; severe ties, and trigger repercussions. The thing about webs, they usually can be traced back to their orgins, each web  has it's owns brand of construction. Webs who trade in so called emotions, are quick to be infected with sweet nothings, lacing their prey with words that were once branded for their previous victim. Remnants of the deceased are still scattered amongst the small wisps of the perfectly catered words. Old truths can emerged if the right words are aligned, the falsities and the true betrayal still haunt these hollow hindrances. Words, coiling around the fools that were designated to be the true owners.  Web of words, the current currency.