I Am The Poet Of Eternal Night

where nightmares creep, A poet’s heart, so dark and deep. From blackened skies, a twisted art, Whispers of demons, dance and dart. With words like poison, dripping slow, Evoking darkness, where nightmares grow. In crimson ink, the secrets leak, Unleashing horrors, fierce and bleak. Forbidden tales, with venom writ, Unraveling minds with each wicked hit. Lost souls arise, entangled in verse, A symphony of darkness, each line a curse. From depths of pain, a twisted plea, A glimpse into eternal agony. Dark musings birthed from tortured nights, Unveiling secrets, forbidden delights. A macabre dance on the edge of despair, Where darkness and beauty intertwine, beware. A wicked poet, with ink-stained hands, Weaving nightmares in distant lands. A jester of darkness, crafting his art, Reveling in the shadows, torn apart. So let the verses flow, no mercy nor light, For I am the poet of eternal night.