Midnight black when fully grown,
mottled brown when newly formed.
Solitary hunter, but multitudes mother,
favored by Dol Guldur's own.
Treetop scampering, spinning, whirling,
jumping, dangling, chittering, swirling.
Through the branches ever searching,
stalking, following, high limbs perching.
Scenting for warm-blooded meals,
two legged, four legged, all appeal,
punctured skins, wrappings tight,
aloft to secret larders alight.
Insides liquefied, a spider's delight,
motherly loving 'til hunger's next bite.
Wrapping legs and deadly kisses,
answering the Dark Lord's wishes.
Yet more spiderlings always come,
from mothers, nieces, sisters' spawn.
Slay but five, kill hundreds more,
WE rule o'er the forest floor.