Intoxicated With His Trance

I met him on a cold, sultry winter’s day, 
A cold, sultry winter’s day in July.
He stood, hands reaching out towards me,
And peered so deep, deep into my eye.

He was strong, independent, exquisitely proud,
I was drawn to a kiss from his lips.
Was I insane or mad? What was I thinking?
Willingly heading for my own apocalypse?

I needed to turn, leave then, right away, 
Run, flee, hit the road, take to flight.
He was a funnel web spider, he’d kiss for a kill, 
His kiss was a deadly poisonous bite.


For my worst fear contest, June 20th

lovequatrain

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