Weaver

Stalking out of the rotting caverns
Stomping the horrid ravens
In burning hags' abomination
Creeping through the creeping forest
Dead and rotten
Foul and diseased
Wandering through the mummified vulture
An idea of life for many decades
The birth control of disease
Of human desperation
So she's here to the wasteland
Of the wounded mortal beings
The slums with her legacies
Spiders spin their vileful webs
To exterminate those who are not yet dead
There she spreads the web within the leafiest place
To become the only one when all inhuman race
Poisonous miasma fills the nightly haze
The smell is ghastly, the draculs scur
Down the weaverways
Down the weaverways
Bleeding, shedding, tangled in the viscous mass
Torn apart by what there is around her
And the utmost for the behaviour so
Flesh is to helplessly observe the
Prey for the zombie reeks
She waits demise upon them all
There's no escape
Nowhere to run
Nowhere to hide
Nowhere to run
Her presence cannot be undone
For the stench around the place
The ghoulish stench
Can't you refrain?
The putrid reek remains alive
And the lice always need it more
In this cursed place
Every living thing has fixed its
In this haunted land
Every living thing has found its death