In the depths of the night, ancient tomes whisper their dread,
Books from the 17th century to the present, filling me with dread,
Within their pages lie secrets ancient and dark,
Biblical curses, demons’ mark.

Each page a portal to a world unseen,
Where shadows dance and demons preen,
Words of power, of ancient lore,
Unleashing fears I can’t ignore.

The ink upon the yellowed page,
Holds tales of horror, of a bygone age,
Whispers of curses, of pacts so dire,
Entwined with flames of demonic fire.

I shudder at the thought of what lies within,
Echoes of a past steeped in sin,
Demons manipulating, twisting fate,
A chilling narrative, a sinister weight.

The turn of each page fills me with dread,
As I trace the lines that demons tread,
Their whispers in the darkness, their presence near,
Filling my heart with a nameless fear.

From the 17th century to the present day,
These books hold secrets that lead astray,
Into realms where darkness reigns,
And ancient evil leaves its stains.

I feel a chill as I read each line,
Terrified by the power divine,
Contained within these pages old,
Where biblical curses unfold.

Demons manipulating, shadows at play,
In the ancient books that hold sway,
I close my eyes, my heart a drum,
Haunted by the secrets that make me numb.