Red spider had sunk the lowest of low
All his gutter talk and come to naught
He was cul de sac, the end of the road
Each pipe cleaner leg refused his weight
He had the shakes, the shivers, the rattles, the rasp.
His breath was baited by vespers
We should give him up for dead
And call an end right here.
But then the heat rose and so his soul
His shadowy husk, became a lump of coal
Set aflame, I will not pass this pass again
