Hellish Shadow

A slithering thing, of inky dread, A hellish shadow, ever fed By whispers cold and flickering light, It writhes and twists in endless night.

No form it holds, yet shape defines, A mockery of sunlit signs, It dances close, then pulls away, A chilling game it seems to play.

Its touch, a whisper, cold and raw, Leaves burning scars unseen, by law Of mortal sight, but etched in soul, A constant ache, a story told.

From corners dark, it seems to rise, With flickering flames in hollow eyes, It feeds on fear, and thrives on pain, A twisted echo, whispering bane.

Beware the shade, the shapeless thing, The hellish shadow, sorrow's sting, For in its dance, a truth is spun, The darkness deep within everyone.