Author's note: I don't own this, the poem that I based this off is called 'The Spider and the Fly' by Mary Howitt, all I did was change a few of the words, hope you enjoy!
Will you agree to the contract?" said the Spider to the Fly,
'Tis true I am abstract but 'tis the prettiest little seal that ever you did spy;
The way into my contract is down into hell,
And I've a many curious things to show you well before then."
Oh no, no," said the little blond Fly, "to ask me is in vain,
For who agrees to your contract can ne'er leave again."
"I'm sure you must be weary, boy, with crawling down so low;
Will you stay in your mansion, with demons in a row?" said the Spider to the Fly.
"There are navy blue and golden beds; the sheets are fine and thin,
And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!"
Oh no, no," said the little blond Fly, "for I've often heard it said,
They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"
Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, "Dear friend what can I do,
To prove the craving I've always felt for you?
I have within my trickery, good store of all that's bad;
I'm sure you're very welcome – it will surely drive you mad"
"Oh no, no," said the little blond Fly, "kind Sir, that cannot be,
I've heard the tricks you have, and I do not wish to see!"
"Sweet soul!" said the Spider, "you're witty and you're wise,
How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your rusty blue eyes!
I've a little looking-glass upon my hellish shelf,
If you'll step in one moment, boy, you shall behold yourself."
"I thank you, gentle sir," he said, "for what you 're pleased to say,
And bidding you good evening now, I'll decide another day."
The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den,
For well he knew the silly blond Fly would soon come back again:
So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly.
Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing,
"Come hither, hither, blond Fly, with the rust and blue eye;
Your robes are black and purple - there's a crest upon your head;
Your eyes are like the river bright, but mine are dull as lead!"
Alas, alas! how very soon this silly little blond Fly,
Hearing his wily, flattering words, came slowly flitting by;
With buzzing wings he hung aloft, then near and nearer drew,
Thinking only of his rusty eyes, and black and purple hue -
Thinking only of his crested head - poor foolish thing! At last,
Up jumped the cunning Spider, and fiercely held him fast.
He dragged him down his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little desire and bloodied ground - but he ne'er came out again!
And now dear little children, who may this story, read,
To idle, silly flattering words, I pray you ne'er give heed:
Unto an evil demon, close heart and ear and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly.