A deceiver’s truth

I rest, centred in the web
My intricately woven mesh of a home
Of delicately strong silken threads
Deceitful deathtraps for my naïve victims
Who eventually satiate my gastronomity
But stop awhile to marvel at how
My greased limbs prance over
The same sticky deadly net
Swiftly daintily and dexterously

Some other possessive beings
May derive pleasure tearing down
A complex architectural masterpiece
Exposed to useless shredded tentacles
Which blotched their simple décor

Unyielding, my arachnid glands
Churn out yet another sticky web
Once more, to save my face