Ode To Poe

Ode to Poe Ah… the sweet jingle of floral tingles my ebon soul And the prancing of the fire, forgive my hearts desire To implore some ghastly toll Upon thy life I implore, where thou can’ist be; adore Adore the tingling liar, how my life embalms attire For some fair maiden I implore Tis the crackle of the logs encrusted by the bogs Which dwindle, seeping, ever reaping, in creeping To implore some ghastly toll But tis many moon ago, upon highest forgotten bows With arrows stained in heart, my soul thus torn apart For some fair maiden I implore In distress, in beckon, in terror galore To the steps ago, in Shalom below Ever creeping, walking the steps below Ever leaping the brimstone inferno below Into depths of mortem my tales foretold For some fair maiden whose tales foretold Of terror, ebon bearer, in bludgeon of cold In deceit in attire… For some fair maiden I implore This, … the crackle of the fire Which ceased upon times desire Snuffed out the memories of long ago As I sat upon the frigid floor below In attire For some fair maiden I implore And to a new set of timber, in ashes now a cinder Upon frigid floor below, in attire donned before I smit the fire a blow And in sparkle, ever warming I felt a tingle ever swarming Of desire over my soul And in haste to attire, this old clothing I retired To a new set of fire, … fire in my soul In utterance a shade of ghostly desire A desire for some fair maiden I implore And so I watch the logs a glow And deny the shadows of what once foretold Of the treachery and deceit which lies below To the steps ago, in Shalom below Now entrancing and in prancing this frigid floor below In dancing, I swing to and fro Of the love that once took my life ago… To a new found love, I at once must go To a new found love, I at once must toll And toll to the embers and the fires of love And toll to the spirits which now rise above And adorn a new desire, upon bells and merry friar To the laughing of decorum and décor In the realms and halls of happiness I tour In utterance of gaily nights adore A desire; … For some fair maiden I implore