Evil Lives Here

In alley’s throat where lamplights choke,

Where midnight wears a funeral cloak,

A presence walks with silent tread,

Half smoke, half hunger, half the dead.

No name he bears, no face to trace,

Just shifting cold in empty space.

A creature formed of human wrong,

The echo of a shattered song.

He stalks the streets where sinners roam,

Yet finds his prey in every home.

For darkness wears a thousand skins

And feeds on mankind’s quiet sins.

Each soul he claims, each fading cry

Melts into wind that slithers by.

For killers born of mortal clay

Are monsters carved from thoughts gone gray.

A child unheard, a life undone,

A wound that darkens without sun.

And from that void of starless years,

A monster rises from our fears.

And though he leaves no prints to find,

He dwells within the fractured mind.

His whisper slips through window cracks:

“The world creates what darkness lacks.”

Reviews

[Michael Sun Bear]

Milena, hello. Another beautiful gothic poem. This one particularly appeals to me. I like the opening lines, made me think of Jack the Ripper stalking the foggy back lanes of London. I love your closing line: the world creates what darkness lacks.

[The Unknown Sith]

I like this for i like dark s**t. This has an old Jack Ripper feel/wolf man. A good opening to a classic horror movie.