Wickedness Lives In His Name

Wickedness Lives In His Name

The room chilled fast,

When he stepped in,

As if the walls knew

What he carried inside.

He spoke in riddles,

Smiling thin,

A crooked charm

That felt like a threat.

His name alone

Darkened the air,

Heavy as a memory

No one wants back.

People watched him,

Afraid to blink,

In case his stare

Chose them next.

I saw the truth,

Hidden in his grin,

A hunger that twisted

Every breath he took.

His hands moved slow,

As if tasting the fear,

Drawing in power

From trembling hearts.

Whispers followed him,

Old as the night,

Stories of cruelty

Left in his path.

Wickedness lived

In his very name,

Carved deep in his soul

Like a curse he welcomed.

And when he left,

The room breathed again,

As if the world itself

Exhaled in relief.