The Death of Poe

Somewhere bound behind these Walls,
Is the tortured soul of Poe.
Poor Poe,
Death would follow him wherever he'd go.

Death that twists and screams as The Usher Calls,
There's never been another like The Poet Poe.
Poor Soul,
Brave Venturer where no one else would go.

Now the Stillness Grabs and Rips Apart!
Gory mess, Pendulum Swings Low.
No rest in pieces.
Dark Spirit ember-less glow.

Black Cat opens one eye drifts and Lulls,
Morgue of Murder Bloody Axe below.
Stares the Mask of Poe,
Hear the Heart still beat Slow?

As his casket entombs the dust Falls,
Up above The Ravens circle and bellow.
Farewell Poe,
The Tale of Poe is no More ....

Author notes
Poem #57 Oct. 28, 2012