Under the loom shuttle glinted Gold threads and violet in air. A mortal's hands so rapid white Wove truths gods would never bear. Athena stood her storming glance goddess scorned betrayed by pride. The mortal fabric—too flawless bold— Told tales of gods their sins unspun. She tore work with an angry hand. Her voice thunder through earth. "Dare you mock immortal power? Then spin darkness avoid light's pure hour." Arachne wept frail body. fingers thinned skin turned pale frame collapsed became small To crawl on wall. And this spell fate was sealed— a web she won’t forget. god's anger art Forever bound yet severed.