E A Poe

Darkness is my light

Poetry is my pain;

Broken silence in the night

Bears my Name


Walls of decay guide my way

Brightness is a blur;

Sanity is decay

Fear is my fantasy


I write of pleasure;

I write of pain;

My tortured soul

Shall remain

As I dip my





On the shelves

Behind the walls.


Death and demise

And vulture eyes,

Black cats,

Sealed caskets,

Boarded up behind the

Mortar and the bricks


In your nightmares

In your dreams

Within the bright moon beams,

I am the ticking of the clock.

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