Within me,
lies an irresistible urge,
a dark one indeed,
that would not fathom beauty,
nor the brave,
that consumes darkness,
that needs slaves,
that is biased,
that is superstitious,
that tells me things,
that makes me see void taking shapes,
it isn’t scary,
no it isn’t indeed,
when I showed,
the world where I lived,
it has been down there since,
cornered in the heart,
it refuses to come, even after it’s dark.