Spider

Caught in a web of decite and hate
Where it is hard to concentrate.
For which each lie
Comes consequences.
And all hatred festers up
So what can you do.
It is sticky and hard to get away.
But when the spider crawled across the web
I new for certain I would be dead.
But then I realised the spider is a pigment of imagination.
I closed my eyes and pictured you
I opened my eyes
And there you were
But I came to learn
You were the spider all along
But I can't be consumed by hatred
For I will become the spider
But what's the point
I've lost you.
So I guess the pain of becoming the spider
Won't be that bad..