A Spider's Spree

It is a spider's spree to build his house from his tongue.

Ergo I adorned my abode,

With strings of trust,

And pillars of honesty,

I spun the roof with affection,

Just like I did the floor-with perfection.

I gleamed with glee,

My cobweb is second to the gardens of Babylon.

Much to the ridicule of my neighbors,

It is only expected of them to say,

"Your Casa is too genuine to hold another tenant,

And too pure to be strong."

I seldom cared,

Because I drew it's blueprint from my conscience,

I neither took aid from silkworms,

Nor did I mix carbon in gold.

Such is my house,

A humble cottage, for a humble tenant.

Alas, land and wind never obey the bound law.

They flow and roll only on biased cracks.

All these tapeworms- friends of silkworms-were left untouched

And mine- never left untouched.