The Spider

Spinning its web of fate

twisting the sinews of  the ill

The spider works all day until late

Deciding who to kill

and whom to keep

Caring not for those who weep

or anyone at all

Pure venom filling everyone's life

with nothing but strife

and as it weaves it's web each day

slowly all your hairs begin to gray

it watches you, the prey

your immortal soul forever in it's snare

until the end of all days

or, at least, that is what I say