Better to be a fly

The spider weaves her web,
The false consumes her head,
She spins until she’s dead,
There is no escape, tangled in fate,
all she can do is wait, wait, wait…

The weight to much to bear,
Though all she feels is fair,
To lift it is to spare,
Yet still no relief, burdened by grief,
So is the fate of this thief.

There is no happy ending,
Till the day she stops pretending,
But a choice to hard to make,
For the webs she spun were fake