Spiders crawling on Hallo's Eve,
Webbing the branches, sprawling the trees,
Scattering, Scurrying, Twisting, Turning,
Eagerly waiting for Halloween.

Bedtimes forgotten the night of horrors,
Never this late have they stayed up before,
Children so young, just having fun,
Little did they know of the gruesome lore.

Three little ones, an aged little town,
An unknown story of a ghost in a gown,
A murdered girl, her spirit roams still,
As young as these children when her life came down.

Our heroes in question roam yard of graves,
When one, the youngest, lost his way,
Little did he know, when he saw the glowing ghost,
"Can you help me, I'm lost?" were the last words he'd say.

Two were now left, searching for friend,
Shadows wavering in trees up ahead,
"Maybe a ghost got him," said the one named Thomas,
To an older girl entranced by graves of the dead.

The oldest, the girl, of our innocent three,
Could have sworn she saw a glow in a tree,
She then gasped in horror, at the swift sight before her,
As her friend named Tom fell dead to her feet.

Frantic, she panics, she runs and screams,
Poor little one, she was only thirteen,
She trips, she falls, she begins to crawl,
Desperate to escape the ghastly scene.

On the ground, cold and afraid,
That grisly glow gaits at the grave,
"Why do you want us, why must you hunt us?"
Nothing she said would lessen the pain...

The ghost in the gown glowed even brighter,
She asked the last child, "Are you afraid of spiders?"
Before she replied, the ghost left her side,
And the arachnids sprawled forth, and crawled down inside her.

The spiders appeared from nowhere it seemed,
So many they muffled the poor girl's death screams,
Hundreds of millions, rivaling billions,
Slowly they fed, no corpse was left,
They crawled to their webs, sated they slept,
Patiently awaiting, next Halloween...