by Nick Gisburne
Before the sun could shed its final rays
The scavengers burned everything they saw
With laughter, on that holiest of days
They found the queen, and took her as their whore
When every drunken dog was drained of seed
They chained her in the temple, and they slept
But vengeance is a greedy beast to feed
And from her womb redemption quickly crept
She birthed a legion, spiders, silver-white
From every seed inside her, these were born
Corrupted, crawling creatures of the night
A plague, a curse, the dark before the dawn
Till sunrise, to a chorus of their cries
The spiders fed, behind their victims’ eyes
