"Here it comes, its behind you, you think, do you really
know whats going on, maybe, as you feel this breath taking
dark powered bond."

Can you feel it, can you see the swift darkness as it
passes,
Can your hear the footsteps go by, from darkness to floor as
it mashes,
You think you see something with a glimpse, but every time
you look back,
There appears to be nothing there and your mind feels like
it is losing track,
Of focus or concentration upon what is presently occurring
in your momentarily confused life,
You scarcely sense something as it accelerates in speed and
moves by,
You try to ignore it, but deep down inside,
Sitting there and meditating if whatever is in your presence
can make you die,
It feels cold and an evil dark filled blanket surrounds your
path,
You try to push it away with your entire wrath,
You hear this darkening death sounding words in your head,
And they make you prefer to be dead,
As they say, “You are nothing but a parasite, your essence
is less important than that of a weasel.”
You feel pathetic, alone, unwanted, and cold, under the
presence of evil.