Unholy Appetite

In the shadowed corners of the mind,

Where light and sanity unwind,

There dwells an appetite unholy,

A craving dark, profound, and lowly.

Whispers echo in the night,

Of souls who shun the warmth of light.

They find their solace in decay,

In savage rites where horrors play.

Why do they hunger for the dark?

What ignites this twisted spark?

A psyche scarred, a soul bereft,

In shadows, they are deftly left.

Indulging in the macabre dance,

They savour death with every glance.

Destruction’s symphony they hear,

A melody of pain and fear.

In rituals of blood and bone,

They claim a kingdom, darkly sown.

A grim delight in suffering’s call,

In chaos, they find order’s fall.

Is it nature, is it fate,

That crafts a mind in such a state?

A predisposition cold and bleak,

In shadows, they their solace seek.

A broken mirror, shattered glass,

Reflects the pain of ages past.

Traumas deep, and scars unseen,

Forge beings lost in dark routine.

In savagery, they seek control,

A twisted balm for tortured soul.

Destruction, their distorted peace,

In chaos, their torments release.

Yet why this path, this morbid road?

What ancient curse, what heavy load?

In search of answers, none suffice,

For in their gaze, the void’s entice.

A dance with death, a flirt with doom,

A pleasure found in shadows’ gloom.

In every scream, in every cry,

They find a purpose, darkly nigh.

And so they dwell, in night’s embrace,

In negative, they find their place.

A mystery, perplexing, stark,

Why some are drawn to life’s dark mark.

But even in this grim domain,

Questions linger, answers feign.

What makes a mind embrace the blight,

And find in darkness, strange delight?