The Stalker: Part 3

to wrench one's heart so free from pain and render owner without disdain shall take a soul so mostly kind to help her put her past behind.

there sits a maiden so imprisoned but fare ~ within four walls out to venture won't dare
when along comes a spider too close to like ~ which brings the fair maiden in course for strike
a whack with a shoe and a smack with a hand ~ and all of the violence was mostly unplanned
even though he was watching and she was eyeing too ~ as he was coming and not the first she knew
tis been this way since a baby she be ~ as the spiders kept trying she soon stopped her flee
when one would crawl closer and drop for a look ~ much to his dismay he would be bound in a book
our maiden is not aggressive to squeamish delight ~ but it terrifies to know they keep on in the night
one too small to defend as they creep ever so ~ in the hopes of stopping by for conversation and more

there sits a spider with curiosity at hand ~ as he teaches his offspring of the task what he can
about the young woman and why it was prudent ~ to tell all her story to each of his students
because she was alone and so sad and depressed ~ that his family and kin and ancestors' quest
to watch and keep vigil always staying within reach ~ to her tears and her sobbing so late they beseech
on her head some will fall to be dust by dawn's light ~ next to wall some were squished with her terrified fright
she was tired of their game and the stalking they'd done ~ believed she was cursed and would never have fun
and decided her best course was to stalk them right back ~ and take up a shoe, newspaper or remote and whack
they kept coming by day by afternoon and by night ~ she heard them alone and without the aid of a light

once in the shower she was startled and bit ~ by a reclusive bastard upon her wet hip
and loathed her the pain and the torturous wound ~ as her flesh was dissolved by his venomous spew
as she frantically slapped and stomped the carcass to dead ~ her left side went numb and she fell on her bed
she ponders her death with a smile so serene ~ and how she had killed without mirth or some mean
and wonders just why they all single her out ~ and don't run and hide when she screams and she shouts
then it happens to come to her one summer's day ~ that they watch her and comfort her in perverted a way
just to know they do want her if even for food ~ has uplifted her spirits enlightened her mood
and may make her a smile that stays on her face ~ shedding new light and happy just allowing her grace

once it has started and there's no turning back ~ one can get quite proficient if giving a knack ~ for the things one endures when mind starts to shudder ~ sets a course for quieter winds on the wings and tail rudder ~ a villainous trial may not be as seeming ~ as more than a friendship not budded or teeming ~ and the mischief t'was made but mistaken by all ~ when the ruse that was laid would tumble down in the fall...~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.