by Jason McCurry (a little something weird for ya;) In daylight and darkness, there's an icy cold, dead chill. Can you see the spectral appearance, in the black widow's veil? In eerie stillness, the figure descends the stairs. In silence, she weeping, her face ashen with tears. Oblivious to mortals, there's no menace in her strive. She descends with a purpose, as if she were alive. How elusive an encounter, is this? An explanation, it defies! A resonance of sorrow, within this spirit lies. |