A Tale of Venomous Bane

"Behold, the weaver of words, whose tongue spins a web of deceit,
A mistress of envy, green as the ivy that clings to the street.
With each whispered slander, her power grows,
Yet her heart, a barren field where no kindness sows.

She casts her venom, a vile brew,
On those who cross her, a spiteful few.
Her laughter, a chilling echo in the night,
A symphony of malice, her sole delight.

But lo! The poison she so freely spreads,
Turns upon her, filling her with dreads.
For in her quest to taint each kindred soul,
She finds herself trapped in her own venomous hole.

Now, watch her unravel, thread by silken thread,
As the venom she crafted becomes her own dread.
A tale of caution, of a spirit so rife,
With jealousy's curse, it consumes her life."