Doubt Poem by Monos Unalos

You kernel of apocalypse, you blight,
You spider spinning webs of blackest twine;
In enervated motion you delight,
To taste aborted acts is your design.
Inertia of the brain, you stinging voice
Whose poison lacerates the perfect glass
In which the images divining choice
Transmogrify before they come to pass.
Oh, twisted spinner of the mental thread,
You lay your traps so surreptitiously,
You cleave to wills ensphered within the head
And sap from them their teleology.
All destinies encompassed in your bands
Are seeds deposited on arid lands.