Your posture suggests a medieval monk,
Alone with his thoughtful contemplation.
That you sit there all day
And simply pray and pray
Causes me to wonder of your meditations.
Are you praying for food? Say an ant or a fly?
Perhaps you’ve just had a fat, juicy spider?
And you’re wanting to say
In your own humble way
A prayer of thanks to your Heavenly Provider.
Are you seeking a sign from the Great Insect God?
Or forgiveness for wrongs you’ve committed?
A past indiscretion?
Or a lurid obsession?
Thus you pray, “Lord, may I please be acquitted?”
Your instincts program you to pro-create
So you find a female with whom you copulate
When finished, you tell your mate
“Wow, that was really great!
But why did you have to bite off my head?”