Flimsy wings of crystal white
Flitting around in forest of night
cold air chilling, restless mind
Trying the best to save his kind.

Looking for a place to lay his head,
short wings flapping, judgement dead
running into sticky mess
time he has becomes less and less

Spider saw prey, not weakened soul
struggleing against wind gust cold
corrupt mind and souless self
placed their consience on a shelf

The spider thought and then knew what they'd cry

A few minutes later...
"Welcome to my web." said the spider to the fly.