Arachne

I see your weakness
Having gained six eyes
In weaving this world
In shame
My newfound name
Hung from a tapestry of truth
As sole instinct to youth
Who, else, deny
My ghastly hold on life

These silken threads
Warnings
That shroud your end
Yet, deaf as touch
I am
That you might know your place
On paths best left untrod
Lest you forget the gods
Who, too soon,
Will recall you