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There came a love of truest and fair,
In a town I came to know,
A girl my heart she did bear
With a love that filled my soul;
To her, I would give my life
Without a single doubt be told.

She sat gracefully upon a lonely bench
In this town I came to know,
I adored her more than life itself
As her beauty lit a-glow;
And her essence came from a heavenly place
As she laced her grace of snow.

Her beauty spreads across the skies,
In this town I came to know,
Spreading love about her goes,
To nurture my love and grow;
So that the abundance of my burning passion
Can murmur and run, just as the rivers flow;
And to an end my dream will come
In this town I’ve come to know.

Her raging light, blazing bright,
Lit my heart a-glow,
For its power completes the monarchy
In this town I came to know,
And binges across the galaxies, spreading love,
To and fro.

I call to her spirit beckoning songs,
For my love to her I must show,
And my passion I must show,
Before my dream is just a dream
And my soul sinks below;
She is the dream of love I dream
In this town I came to know.

She too knows of me and the love inside that grows,
In this town I’ve come to know,
The sun never settles caressing the red rose peddles,
In this town I’ve come to know,
The birds will chirp a sounding song of mirth,
To the heavens above till love gives birth
To a love packed passion as all men know
The love that was found
In the town I came to know.
Mikayla Smith Jan 2017
A simple gleam in the sky
Doesn’t seem to be enough light;
Especially when the darkness overcomes
This world of quickly fading love.

Why is it that they provide hellfire
Instead of holy water?
Do you believe for a second
That anything will quench the thirst
Of Satan’s sons and daughters?

A light in the blazing sky,
But it seems that the still wind
Never whispers goodbye.
Rolling tide and a blood-soaked sea,
We’re only left to reminisce
Of what used to be.
Partially inspired by Edgar A. Poe's "Annabel Lee" and partially inspired by Donald Trump's America of anarchy.
Mikayla Smith Jan 2017
I’d imagine if ever found,
He’d hang around
A ****** pub
Right smack in the middle
Of town.

Perhaps he’d nearly burn
Off his throat from
Straight tonic and
Gin or
Maybe he’d have a
Conversation with
The raven; the
Sardonic chant of
“Nevermore” echoing the
Walls as he’d drunkenly
Hit the floor.

Stifling an intoxicated
Giggle or
Two, I’d ask him
What Annabel Lee would
Do once the demons
In the sea threatened
Her love or if
The evil eye was eyeing
Him from above.

I’d ask all things, up
And down and
Why a man of
His genius still
Lingered in this sleepy
Old town.

Perhaps before I
Depart, I’ll pluck a
Feather right from his
Raven’s wing and leave
Mr. Poe to bask
In the sweet
Sound of silence
As the pendulum
I am very passionate about the works of Edgar Allan Poe and I wrote my love for said works through my own poetic mastery. I hope you enjoy reading a little snippet of how I imagine meeting our beloved Poe would be. I sure enjoyed writing it!
Anwar Francis Oct 2015
I am the invisible man
Ellison wrote about
haunting Edgar Allan Poe’s
subdued dreams.
Who carries a gift I did not ask for
staring take it back
into the faces of people
who treat my skin like parchment
and write stories on it
without my consent.
Chris T Oct 2015
on this october night, while i ponder on the crisp toilet seat
and feel my body shiver from the awful lack of heat,
one single ****, compact and long, from my ******* falls,
and into then rank toilet water it splooshes and splashes.
on the porcelain i clench my feet and moan, it echoes through the halls,
my *******, it burns! (lo, how it burns!) as if a ***** went in full with scratches.
how i pray to God Almighty, "forgive me Lord for I have sinned",
in this ****** place i sit aroused and weary, The light is dimmed,
from the corner of my eye, my end nigh: i sigh, Lord. i sigh!
the toilet paper is gone, i cannot handle the vapor (nor my **** gaper).
By (Edgar Allan Poe) Me!
Rockie Jan 2015
Everyone has those Edgar Allan Poe moments
When they sit depressingly
Thinking of the Death
That is around the corner
And all around them
They call them pessimistic
But in truth
They are just
*Simply lonely people that need to be loved
unnamed Dec 2014
Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
The moon is bright t'is night.
It shines a diff'rent light.
Do you wonder why?
Look up in the sky.

The moon is big and bright
Like how I smile tonight.
While thinking about you,
And sharing what is true --

I love you.
This is with matching melody.
Said The Raven
To The Raven
Which Raven are you?

I said The Raven
Am The Raven
Of Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

And I said The Raven
Am The Raven
Of Edgar Allan Poe.

Apparently there's a rave on -
Shall we go?

Yes - let us go then you and I
As the evening is spread out
Against the sky.

But not like a patient
Etherised upon a table.

Let us like Thunderbirds
Not gentle go into this dark night.

So dressed in sable
White gloves
And whistles
They went on their way -
Not looking forward
To conversations about
Michelangelo at all.

For as we all know
Old age should rave and burn
At close of day.
And not just fizzle out.

More big shout...........................................

And rave until you fall.
Both Edgar Allan Poe and Samuel Taylor Coleridge did both write poems called The Raven. The latter's is one of the most dispiriting and disconcerting pieces of vindictive revenge in the English language.T S Eliot and Dylan Thomas did write poems called The Love Song of J Alfred Purfrock and Do Not Gentle Go Into That Good Night respectively and lines from both poems appear here in various guises. If you know niether both would make most anthologies of 20th century poetry.

And honestly white gloves and whistles were common on the rave scene in the early days.

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