the conclusion of this wandering narrative came in such a deliberate manner as would befit the closing of an act in a play , or some otherwise lofty exposition in a piece of literary drivel by a self-important writer with a warped acuity with respect to the mundane , who , in his myopic orchestrations of reason , sought to instill what should have been an uninspiring fate with imagery that spoke to its hidden magnanimity as though its protagonist were the benevolent and unwitting victor of a negligible battle recognized only by those sensitive enough and blessed with enough skillful virtue to encompass its high-minded attributes in an artistic framework ; it was as a consequence of this that the serf fell under the weight of what seemed the instinctive pressure to cast his eyes mindfully upon a nearby patch of lilies , which were veiled by spun-web layers intersecting three-dimensionally like netted planes ; the legs of a spider dangled prominently from behind one petal of a flower as this calculating predator lay restlessly in wait for its pollen-seeking prey to ensnare itself in this intricately-woven trap ; enraptured by this glorious feat of architecture , yet dismayed by the cruel necessity built into the foundations of its sublime structure , the now-disheartened protagonist looked dramatically to the disingenuous sky , which had misled him to thinking , in the purest beaming of aspirations , that the pursuit of beauty and the drives of instinctual necessity were , in fact , mutually exclusive , and he shook his fist , cursing infinity before finally murmuring to himself spitefully , to what lengths of treachery must i , too , extend myself that i might live to see another day of this ?