There are places in the human mind that daylight refuses to enter.

Rooms sealed with old grief, doors nailed shut with memories that still breathe. Most people learn to walk past them, pretending not to hear the scratching inside.

I never learned.

These poems were born from those locked rooms... the echoing halls where nightmares linger, the corners where sorrow grows teeth, the shadows that know my name. I did not write them to comfort, or to soothe, or to dress darkness in pretty words. I wrote them because the dark keeps its own record, and it demanded to be heard.

Within these pages you will find what I have seen... what I have lost... what has hunted me in the quiet hours when the world sleeps. Some verses bleed despair. Others bite. A few whisper truths that perhaps should have stayed buried.

Read them if you wish.

But understand this... once you step inside, you do not remain unchanged.