an ode to Poe
My ears hear hearts in earth and
madness mounts
Inside this pit that has become a
grave.
Beats quicken as the pendulum
keeps count
Of each tormented moment that I
crave.
Bells toll and Annabels do call
to me;
Heard over ravens raving nevermore
In haunted chambers no one else
can see,
Behind bricked walls, beneath the
boards of floors—
Their clouded, shrouded eyes, condemning
me
From caskets overturned like
casks of wine;
And I’ll prolong each song of
agony,
Though pallid, angry angels haunt
my mind.
The souls of those I’ve killed
will not lie still,
For bloody ink spills, ceaseless,
from my quill.
