The man he sits,
Upon the bed.
Watching his sister die.
"No don't go" he says,
Eyes glowing red.
He's losing his mind.
The house, the house!
Is dark and defied!
He roams about,
Only hearing her cries.
The eyes of gray,
With no sleep.
He has no one to keep; to love.
His heart is very weak.
My dearest,
Fear thy presence.
She has come..
Within the rising storm.
He's gone now,
Blindly chasing a dream,
Her voice.
Insanity now holds his chains,
It won't be long now,
Before the blackness reigns.
Eyes bloodshot,
With a wolfish grin.
He's become thee,
Insane Usher again.
This house, it haunts.
With the dead below...
Where restless souls creep,
Carrying solemn cries.
There Usher Stands,
Lost in his agony...
The land where his sister sleeps.
No diary of his sweet.
His face is written,
In superstitious derail.
Beyond Hells Gates,
His final line frays...
The name of Usher will end,
This day.
No more sons,
To bear thu name.
A sibling is lost,
In this game of fate.
The house has fallen,
Broken and decayed.
Where no life breathes.
The fall of the house of Usher,
The tomb hath stayed.
Exposed by nature.
Never to live again.
Insanity takes thee,
Drowning out the calm.
Superstitions rage wildly,
Within the Ebony storm...
Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
The man he sits,
Upon the bed.
Watching his sister die.
"No don't go" he says,
Eyes glowing red.
He's losing his mind.
The house, the house!
Is dark and defied!
He roams about,
Only hearing her cries.
The eyes of gray,
With no sleep.
He has no one to keep; to love.
His heart is very weak.
My dearest,
Fear thy presence.
She has come..
Within the rising storm.
He's gone now,
Blindly chasing a dream,
Her voice.
Insanity now holds his chains,
It won't be long now,
Before the blackness reigns.
Eyes bloodshot,
With a wolfish grin.
He's become thee,
Insane Usher again.
This house, it haunts.
With the dead below...
Where restless souls creep,
Carrying solemn cries.
There Usher Stands,
Lost in his agony...
The land where his sister sleeps.
No diary of his sweet.
His face is written,
In superstitious derail.
Beyond Hells Gates,
His final line frays...
The name of Usher will end,
This day.
No more sons,
To bear thu name.
A sibling is lost,
In this game of fate.
The house has fallen,
Broken and decayed.
Where no life breathes.
The fall of the house of Usher,
The tomb hath stayed.
Exposed by nature.
Never to live again.
Insanity takes thee,
Drowning out the calm.
Superstitions rage wildly,
Within the Ebony storm...
Long and written for the Fall of the house of Usher by Edgar Allan Poe
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