Spider and Humility

What mystery is this?...a frisky spider dance A tarantula perched upon your humble shoulder As chance would have it this fine morning bright The drunken executioner comes staggering by From a nights merriment and party in the pub A weapon rests on his not so sober shoulder From medieval times till now A bowed head is a temptation For a man with an axe Just in time to save the day he swings With axe as giant as himself And with power much larger than the sin Stumbling blind with eyes still closed He tries again and misses...Well not exactly The spider jumps away quite quickly But not much is left upon the shoulders Of the man who once was the owner Of something he needs for thinking Being humble is unique you see As the head rolls down the street And with it his history