Her shadows are swelling,

gleefully awaiting tragedy's foretelling.

Darkness, the cruelest mistress,

she digs her grieving nails in me again.

Amorphous and wretchedly ambitious,

she preys on those who cry in vain.

Driven by intangible night,

she spins her webs to strangle the light.

The enchantment of countless centuries she had cruelly slain,

a sensation of misery bears a forbidden attraction.

She seeks lost souls to corrupt and drain,

a deal with darkness is a wicked transaction.

Out of spite for the creature called bliss,

darkness will always eclipse.