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Consciousness seeps,
the air moves.
Quickly reach!
Break forth from your tomb.
Visability blurred as my head swoons.
Instincts react! Frozen in place my eyes  roam.
What was that?!  I am not alone.
Instincts react!   Quickly I'm gone.
Hidden in back.  Allowing my senses to hone.
My vision now intact.  I search the unknown.
Momentarily my sanity cracks. Unbelievable what I'm shown.
Spiderlings scurrying I'm taken aback. As the big One grips a door-like throne.
Where am I at? This isn't my home.

Quickly taking stock of the shell that now houses my existence.
The panic grows instead of lessens.
For now I realize I am a spider curse or blessing.
Adaptation is survival I start assessing.

Eight strong, stocky yet creepy legs.
A body and thankfully not two heads.
Two eyes in the center, three on the right, three on the left.
I open my mouth to speak and feel a fangs sharp edge.

A sinister emotion emerges from the deep.
Realizing with these I shall kill and eat.
The shock is gone as I quickly creep.
From shadows to corners I emerge and sneak.
As each one of my siblings meet with their defeat.
One by one I locate them before they retreat.
I pounce fast and sink in my teeth.
Two pops as within them I be.
Their life oozes and squirts in my cheeks. 
Dropping them to the floor at my feet.
On and on I go like the Goddess Neith.
Killing each one weaving my destiny.

Right before I reach what seems like the last.
I catch sight of something but it was too fast.
Before the next breath, I was snatched up and swung.  Flying into the wall where the trapdoor hung.  Crash!

Quick to recover I face my assailant.
But with a size surpasses gigantic.
And at the moment not a fanatic.
Deadly glares from the mother, a dangerous combatant.
I quickly mask my aggression and pretend to be gallant.

My heavy breaths release the heat of the fight.
As I see through the cracks that it's no longer night.
The trapdoor that feeds us closed up tight.
Food is given and taken much to my delight.
Snagging mine quickly enough then hiding from sight.
Safely tucked far back in a crevice away from daylight.
I eat and I sleep well maybe not quite.
For a hunter must always be prepared for the bite.
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