A poem accompanied by a picture that I took. Enjoy and please let me know what you think.

Translucent web drapes down, haunted with
Secrets of distant past. Here the spiders used to tread
With their fingers of silk spinning wonders of dreams.
Freeing themselves from our world of dread.
I saw him once, with his menacing eyes and his
Eight long legs crawling towards me. A hard shoe put an end
To his carefree life, and his blood seeped into the dry soil.
Still his eyes locked onto my soul, like those of a friend.
And now I see his kind’s art; beautiful, delicate. Enough to make
Me wonder if it was this was the very web. The web that he had spun
While he was still alive. I can remember the blood seeping into the ground,
So helpless. So careless I had been. But when all’s said and done...
His secret will never be known, hidden deep within the silken web,
I should never had treated him that way. We have no right to mess around
With their secrets. Like the keys to doors. If the door is not ours,
We shouldn’t look for the key. Because it shouldn’t be found.

The picture is nice too and looks cool, especially the web covering that opening. The openings a little too big though so it didn't feel really secretive for me.