Hidden in dark aspects give insight
to opportunity that she seizes.
Time only makes her feel its clear
for her to spin her web of diseases.
Injecting venom slow paralyzes
the species she seeks to prey on.
She is quick in the night so tight,
plotting her site up until dawn.
Once in her nook spread is a web
that she must control for her ego.
How many can she take in her lair
whose blood she intends drain slow?
She must survive to spread her seed,
so she must be cunning to succeed.
She doesn’t understand compassion;
only that which she knows bleeds.
There is no hope for the blind,
their weakness is their downfall.
The wise have seen it in her eyes,
lifeless she sees in ways animal.
I am a human and feel a sickness
in the wind again that is ritual.
Manipulate she does to decide fate;
I see the hints, signs and signals.
Forward she goes to spit venom
that would fall the tallest being.
She thinks she has a grip but slips
in ways I am used to seeing.