Mayflies are much like humans
they spring from sweet waters,
burn their tallows at both ends
ensnared, sieve through my web.
Many call me Lord of Flies
but in truth I am a spider,
a weaver of fate and secrets.
Hell’s general, yes – also
a spinner of temptation
skeins of sin in pedipalp
my bed of maggots and silk.
A ring of garnet eyes, my crown
in dark robes like rosary beads
I nest in the highest of places
my swarms your heart’s swift buzz.
I am Baal Zebub,
Lord of Hordes,
Lord of Souls.