Cast in fine lines, black and white and

Perfect technicolour rage... We.

I and you and us, all one,

Oour hearts and souls commingling,

The sum of our parts, more or less.

Less anger, more rage, more hate, less fear.

We are Us. We are united.

We are not evil, no villain us,

Although we kill, that we may live,

Yet we shield the innocent, with

Teeth and claws and burning rage.

We protect, who are unprotected.

We defend, who are undefended.

We find, who ourselves are lost,

The child to the mother, the lamb to the fold,

The guilty to death and six feet of cold.

We are often lonely (though never alone),

For something, someone, not ourself,

Whose thoughts we do not know, but learn,

As others do. Sometimes we seek

But do not find, knowing that until we do,

Our hatred keeps us warm inside.

Spider, Spider, in the night,

Mr Clean-cut-do-what's-right.

Took us from our livelihood,

Cast us from him heartlessly,

Who sought to beat him, join with him,

He rejected us and caused such hurt

Within... cruel, uncaring Spiderthing,

Our passion and our nemesis.

A little, tawdry thing, our rage,

No great moral quest is ours, but

Mere personal aggrievance.

Who cares what uniform he wears,

What hero's words his battle cry.

Personally, intimately,

We hate not what he is but who,

We care nothing for the hero,

Our battle's with the man.

But....

Until the day we take him down

We'll continue on our quest.

The innocent we will protect.

And the guilty..... we'll digest.

End