Affliction - a Sickness of Morality

A spider came crawling from my mouth. Obstructing my thoughts, its view uncouth; Wet-plaster egg-sacs lined in rows, Frothy-white gluey strands stand aloft. A whistling through teeth, acerbic garrote, Like a ed-up chord, one shrieking note. With spiked legs, lustrous eyes, it wriggles, Inside and upwards, black shadow in throat. In its dew-filled cavern, a spit waterfall trickles, Eidolon eyes, the spectre reflects superficial Light from gentry degenerate troughs. My tongue swells purple, sour and fickle. Odious fangs consume the decaying flesh Of voices and whimpers and virtue lost. In pellucid, idle husks, his venom flows - Dripping acid, his wolf-grin, as I cough.