Spiders ghost through the halls of power,

unseen by the figureheads who claim control.

Tall though the mighty stand in the senate chamber,

even they cannot flee their fate:

like the great beast they constitute, they too will petrify in time.

Massive limbs will crash to earth;

dueling wings will lock and fall.

And when at last both red and blue are bleached to white,

when all lies empty save for bones,

the silent daughters of Arachne will spin and dance once more

over their sinking marble mausoleum.