You are a fake Said spider to the fly Your authentic self Hides out in your eyes Show who you are To escape this web Light sorrow and scars With falsity's ebb Language you missed Replied the fly Staring at bliss Is my way of sky Kestrels may screech As prey they pick up While flies are the peach Of dying's sick cup So please take my life From out of this air Webbing's my knife Your hunger's my care