In the midnight’s cold, where shadows dance,
Lies a whispering voice, a sinister trance.
It calls to the heart with a venomous grace,
Masking the truth with a treacherous face.

The serpent’s grin, so deceitful and sly,
Entices the soul with a treacherous lie.
With every promise, a thread is spun,
Binding the spirit till the deed is done.

Darkness unveiled in the dead of night,
Cloaked in sorrow, devoid of light.
The abyss beckons, a silent plea,
Consuming hope, devouring glee.

Yet in the depths, a spark remains,
A beacon of hope in chains.
For every shadow, a dawn will break,
Shattering the darkness for light’s sake.