He spins his web of lies.
He conjures up
His sticky silk
With care.
As he spins his trap,
He stitches every
Tiny detail with the utmost precision,
For any small mistake
Might hint us to
His dark secret.
Once he completes
His despicable masterpiece,
He waits.
He releases a sweet aroma
Of Abercrombie Cologne.
He stands with poise
And masculinity;
Everything about him
Invites us in.
We fly straight into
His deadly trap,
Completely blind
To his evil plot.
The adhesive silk
Quickly encases
Our frail bodies.
We struggle in one
Final attempt to resist.
But we only entrap
Ourselves more.
He watches as
These people who
Love him the most,
Helplessly strangle beneath
His entangled threads.
Trapped inside
His web of lies,
We plead for help.
He snickers to himself,
And asks:
You foolish women,
Didn’t you know
My true motivation?
I only wanted one thing.
And now, I can have it.