naykdpoet

Silk-String Weave

The spider’s cobweb weave
Creates an inaudible sound
One heard only by insects
That abound

Like a magnet the attraction
Is unseen
But once caught
It becomes a nightmarish dream

Vibration of a thing’s approach
Instills a fear
A flash of self-reproach

Fruitless struggle
A thought to resign
Life’s fleeting memory
Too short to define

The demon to this source
Follows its tactical course
With success in mind
A carcass to be left behind

To what do we despair?
To the death of one
Or the success
That seems unfair.

Spider To The Fly

`I have you now and most assuredly will you die’
Said the spider to the web caught fly

`Why must I die’ sheepishly cried the fly
`When there others to eat, why not pass me by?’

`You are here and now so am I’ was the spider’s reply
`And I am hungry to eat you, this I will not deny’

`Oh my, oh my’ continued to cry the fly
`What will my family do if I am now to die?’

`Not of my concern’ was the spider’s ominous cry
Its sharp fangs piercing the succulent, helpless fly

`Oh wow is me’ cried the fly `I guess this goodbye’
Trying to escape, giving it just one last try

The spider’s fangs piercing deeper, holding tight the fly
Relished in its good taste, ignoring the fly’s weakening cries

The fly’s hollowed body with its nourishing fluids sucked dry
Lay next to the ravenous spider anxiously waiting ‘til its next victim comes by.