Inside My Wicked Mind 1.

In the depths of my mind, a darkness resides, Each line that I write, a haunting, ghostly guide. It leaves me weak, weary, my soul torn apart, But this sacrifice, I make for my art. From the depths of my heart, these words do arise, Dark, bloody, and twisted, they pierce through the skies. No happiness lingers, no joy can be found, Only pain and chaos, a maddening sound. Insanity creeps through each line that I weave, Guts and skulls, flesh and blood, the horrors conceived. A crypt of emotions, a morbid display, My pen dances freely in this eerie array. The madness within, like a freak on display, Haunting my thoughts, never fading away. Intestines of thought spill onto the page, A macabre masterpiece, a darkened stage. In the realm of my verse, there is no escape, I'm trapped in this realm, where nightmares take shape. My spirit is bound by the grip of the dead, But still, I press on, my demons to be fed. No joy can be found, no solace or peace, Only the twisted art, where darkness finds release. Through veins of ink, my emotions unfurl, Murdering the mundane, my twisted world. With each stroke of the pen, I delve deeper still, Into the recesses of my mind, where shadows spill. WickedAsh.