Come to me, my silk spinning children,
For I have a task gruesome in nature:
Let the moon guide your way
through cracks and crevices,
To the list of souls
Who've crossed my path.
Into sleep filled rooms,
Our victims slumber,
Their parted lips give way
To passages and chambers.
As your Spider Master,
heed my command
to cob-up the insides
and lay your eggs.
~ElizaDeath
