Whitewash

Bereft of meaning underneath,
Remorseful corpse's halo wreath 
Endorsing existential ebb-
Corrosion in a spider web
Bombards a widow- 'dangle, die'- 
Intensity, the tangled fly
Responsive in its martyred wake-
A soulful missionary's stake-
Complies with Darwin's fullest gist-
Survival of the fittest, twist
Upon the wings and sticky gauze 
As fangs appear; the spider's pause
Elicits something from the prey-
An opportunity to say,
"The children I have spawned below
Are frail and fragile, so you know.
Appease your appetite on me,
And duly, truly leave them be."
The widow grins her toothy smile-
"My dear, they will be safe a while 
Until my hunger pushes on-
Alas, you will be dead and gone-
As unaware of what transpires,
A peace and calm suppressing fires
Released within your mind await.
Embrace the end; accept your fate."
Contentious anthems fill the head-
A parent drinking doubtful dread,
However, flicked a sticky tongue 
And ate the spider where she hung ...