Who, looking at dark spiders, can truly say that they have stood among these?
Through our fears, do we wish them far away; or do we see them in corners, watching?
Staring at webs can be tiring, especially when the silk is of our own devising.
Waiting patiently, the dim shapes know we must soon pass their way, and time after time,
Like hypnotized insects, we refuse to acknowledge our danger.
If, someday, the spider we are holding finally bites us, do we really have to feel any pain?
Or, will we die of fright, knowing that we have never forgiven ourselves for that which we have only imagined?