Working with her twisted threads She weaves a web of beautiful words The scales of long dead butterflies A mask to hide the spider's lies Empty promises and crocodile tears Aren't enough to save a mind. What of the spider who loves the angel One has fallen, one never flew Suffering alone isn't to her liking So with fangs and threats, she poisons his soul. Is that not love? Or is it death Love and death are synonyms When dealing with the broken weaver A spider, the lady of many sins.
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