A spider caught in surpitude
Alone he placates at the moon
Wishing for a beach and a dune
Hoping to retract back to his cocoon
Dissidence follows us at dusk
Caught up in the hair of a corn's husk
Sit, you must not fuss
Its not love, it's modern day lust
Shut the bloody door
Hit the cold and love the floor
We will one day return to the shore
I just ask for a bit more
With each brazen breath
I think of death
And grimace at each known theft
Please hear me, don't pretend to be deaf
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