The Dark Poet

Stuck in a world that is his own,
the light isn't there anymore,
the sun has been shunned from the sky,
a bitter man he has become, 
his soul isn't pure anymore,
his thoughts have turned into,
those of demons and brimstone,
those of fire and death, 

He speaks the words,
from his vile and tainted lips,
his soul has become dark,
as dark as the midnight's sky,
he can't see anything but darkness,
he can't feel anything but hate,
he controls his soul in the palm of his hand, 

he writes in a book that is bound by darkness,
a book that has nothing in it,
but vile thoughts and his hatred for mankind,
you could look at him in the eyes,
and you'd see the void of no emotion,
he's transformed once again, 

What is he thinking?
No one knows,
what will he say and what will he do, 
it's nothing but a mystery of fates,
thus the legend has began, 
the raise of The Dark Poet,
another one for this century,
another one for the next,