Warlock's Study

I tried to imagine in my mind sort of an evil library or sorcerer's den and then tried to describe what I saw when I looked in different directions.

Crude paintings on the walls, not screwed in,
only hanging on screws. Light, cold as the frost without,
falls, into the room, crawls on the outskirts
of every shadow's realm.

Books lay and lie, scattered on the floor,
by dust imprisoned, by decay enslaved. Smoke, dark as the winter night,
breathes on paper, brushes past words
inscribed on crusted pages.

A raven perched, head still, upon a bone,
speaks, this time, no words. Gaze, piercing as the assassin's knife,
watches the scene below, sees the black cloak
draped over ill-bent shoulders.

Nightmares whisper from the corners, hushed in secrecy,
laugh and taunt. Evil, thick as the demon's embrace,
wraps the world in fear, an elder wickedness
knows dark magic is practiced here.

Reviews

[The Dark Passenger]

i love the imagery you've painted through this piece. It has a really beautiful flow to it as well. As a poem it's really beautiful and well crafted, though not the darkest thing I've read.
But still, amazing- so I thought I had to atleast review it! :D