What tangles web you wove when you weaved your way into my heart.

Unraveling all of my desires and luring me into a silk dream.

I thought the red hour glass was meant to portray your undying passion; not the timer of how soon I’d be trapped.

Your lies are as elastic as the webs you weave; long deceiving strands that leave your prey no choice but to be stuck to you.

You are the queen of deceit.

Weaving your lies time and time again

Although I complain about being trapped

I ask myself: Do I really want to be free?