A library sick from a gluttony of history and fables
Cobwebs paints the literature like a spider's twisted picture
Enter this library with caution or abandon preservation if you're able
This library reaps souls through eyes that gaze at cursed scriptures
At the end of endless shelves stands a lonely case made of decaying yggdrasil
A lone black book stands in front of windowpanes swallowed by the shade of murky moonlight
The novel oozes a presence that warps reality and weakens even the most iron of wills
It displays your darkest dreams held in the shadows of neglected hearts that no longer have fright
Of false admiration of ego and doubt that confiscated our morality
As fate cries, our hate, doubt, and regrets experience immortality
Honest lies and darkest lights wage war inside the pages read with upmost animosity
Reading from here doesn't empower or give knowledge it disables
All stories dispersed from a curse hearse that burst out from the library like straight from a cryptic fable
If you hear church bells ring and ravens begin to sing
Hide from the roads, for nothing good will show
The black book seeks victims to repair normality back to despair trapped in a black ring
For shadows and nightmares, are the only entities it tries to grow
YOU ARE READING
Poetry
PoetryJust some poetry I make on the fly when my mouth can't speak what emotions I feel, my soul will type them here.
