A Day in a Fly's life

In a corner of my room, where shadows dance so shy, Lived a tiny little fly, beneath the crescent moon's eye. Not a creature of grandeur or a beast of fright, But a simple being, basking in the twilight. His wings were like thin sheets of rain, Glistening under the window pane, And with every beat, a silent whisper in the air, A ballet of dreams without a single care. His world was small, yet vast in wonder, Filled with raindrops and occasional thunder. A kingdom of crumbs, a feast for a day, A speck of dust, a stage for play. One morning, as the sun did rise, Our fly awoke to find a surprise. A drop of jam, oh so sweet, Lay before him, a marvelous treat. With eager wings, he took to flight, Circling round, in sheer delight. But little did our friend foresee, The peril that would come to be. For lurking near, with watchful eyes, A spider sat, disguised in guise. With patience born from timeless craft, It waited silent, fore and aft. Our fly, consumed by joy and haste, Did not see the web, so finely laced. Into the trap, he flew with glee, Unaware of his impending plea. The spider approached, with steps so light, Eyes gleaming with a hunter's delight. But in this moment, fate would sway, For the fly found strength to break away. With wings torn, yet spirit whole, He flew from the web, a narrow escape from the knoll. A lesson learned, in heart and mind, The value of caution, and to be kind. For in his flight, he saw the plight Of other flies, trapped in their fight. And from that day, he vowed to guide His fellow kin, away from the tide.