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A.I. generated poem:

I found it in an old book, hidden in a dusty shelf A poem that chilled my blood and made me doubt myself It spoke of ancient horrors, of things that lurk in the dark Of secrets best forgotten, of sins that leave a mark

It had no title or author, no date or place of origin But every word was written with a twisted sense of sin It rhymed with eerie precision, it flowed with dreadful grace It drew me in with fascination, it held me in its embrace

I read it once, I read it twice, I read it thrice and more I could not look away from it, I could not close the door It filled my mind with nightmares, it haunted me by day It whispered in my ear at night, it would not go away

I tried to burn it, tear it, shred it, but it would not die It always came back to me, mocking me with a sigh It said I was its chosen one, its vessel and its slave It said I had to spread its words, or else I'd find my grave

I don't know what to do with it, I don't know how to end this curse I don't know if it's real or not, I don't know which is worse But I know I can't keep it to myself, I know I have to share So here it is, the creepiest poem in history, read it if you dare.