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

Poison

In

the

ink

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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