Tangled webs strewn with silken threads
ever so beautiful, yet full of dread.
Encrusted with diamonds in the early morning dew.
With each passing day the web is made new.

He walks toward the silken threads unaware of the danger.
Mesmerized by the beauty within, he's bold, he's not a stranger.
With each step, he calculates the risks
for failure means death in the eternal abyss.

He knows the slightest vibration will bring her out.
He is no match for her strength, her passion, her lust. He
quickly casts about.
She is not to be seen. Maybe her lair is empty. Maybe she
has hunted her last.
Only fate and fear stand in his way. He goes forward knowing
his life is past.

Each silver thread strokes a cord as his feet strum and soon sweet music comes to his ears.
Ever the sly one, he succumbs to the song being played;
unaware he is, of danger so near.
He is just a thief, set to take her before she takes him.
He senses success as he enters in.

She is not here to cause him harm.
The cords are strummed faster to sound the alarm.
He is just a man buried in the warmth of the womb.
He glories at the beauty within, the music; his tomb.

As his body is pierced with those lovely fangs,
he has only moments to spend himself as his death bell rang.
Immortal he has become, as his body grows thinner.
The song plays on; ah, my lustful man, I must thank thee for
for the lovely dinner.