Arachnid Descent

Under night’s darkness, a terrible sight,

Wounds that fester cause fear.

From the black gloom of wounds, spiders slink from depths of flesh and a creeping gloom.

A wriggling swarm of legs and eyeballs rising from where pain resides.

Their silken webs tell stories of terror around the scars where life has blipped.

Every small beast moves silently from secret area.

Wound to the world, they close the distance and spin terror in their net.

Skin cracks open, secrets leaks from wounds where darkness seems to slink.

Born of suffering, arachnid legions fall in a constant shower.

Breath clutched tightly in quiet fear,

The wounds spawn an unceasing night.

Regarding the crawl of spiders from red door,

In ethereal waves, always more.