The Spider

Sneaking, slowly, creeping on

Pricking each shiny prong

If you move - I’ll move in fast

Deny your instincts - Let fear last

Ebbing, straining - Useless dear

Right now my fly, your fate is near.








This page and it's contents are the sole ownership of the author aka Eilsel Rengaw © 1999. No part of this page or it's contents may be used without the expressed consent of the author.