On a night like last I sat fearing, Looking at the wall, almost peering. The depths in each crack seemed endless, It’s volume etched into my remembrance.
A certain feeling aroused a subtle gleaming. In this darkness, our darkness began teeming. In that moment, my lungs stopped the rhythmic breathing, And my life swiftly ended by a tiny widow’s scheming.
I tried an impression of Edgar Allan Poe, how’d I do?