#edgarallanpoe
I never once thought the end was nigh,
Until I gazed into that old man’s eye.
That vulture eye, so pale and cold,
Peering through the cracks in my soul.
its stare was lingering,
From room to room,
From dream to dream
What happens if I look away?
Will it infect me once I think I’m safe?
I keep a smile upon my face,
He cannot know I’ve solved the case.
His soul is brewing something lethal,
But I’m no fool — I can sense evil.
Floorboards creak beneath my tread,
My blood runs cold as I look ahead.
The old man sleeps, yet that eye is open
How does it know my thoughts, unspoken?
A thump..thump..thump fills the room. My chest tingles with impending doom. Whatever am I to do?
Seven nights I held it in,
The urge to end the fear within.
One strike upon the head–that’s all it takes,
Only a single cry he makes
For a moment, all was finally still,
Then I heard that cursed thing thumping still..
Had I failed after all?
I tore open the dead man’s chest,
And ripped out the vile beast within
And there it was, alive and strong.
What had I done wrong?
I stuffed it beneath the floorboards deep,
Where I could not hear that wretched thing beat.
the crime scene now was wiped so cleanly,
The only trace — my breathing, deeply.
But I had to keep my cool.
Before even the kids were up for school,
The officers came to investigate,
But I was sure they’d soon be on their way.
They can search every nook and cranny– my bathtub won’t reveal anything uncanny
My plan is flawless in pursuit
Until things took another route
Soon my body starts to shake —
As my head starts to throb with hate
I know that sound–all too familiar
Rhythmic pattern–my voice inferior
But—
It beats beneath the wooden floor,
Louder than it ever was before.
The grandfather clock mocks with glee —
Each second bleeds, each tick accuses me.
I scream aloud that I’m not insane!
I can hear that heartbeat clear as day.
How do they not hear it — there’s no way!
Are these officers inane?
Another thump rings through my ears,
But this time I’m sure — it’s drawing near.
It’s not his heart, it’s mine I hear, each beat a word:
“Confess, my dear.”
Under the floor, it calls my name —
“You know what you did! You cannot escape!”
How do I get away?!
It was me! Please, make it go away!
No surprise was shown on their face —
How did they know? I left no trace.
As I was led from that awful house,
Metal cuffs were holding me down.
I saw my face in the mirror’s part,
Smeared with the blood
Of that old man’s heart.
I saw my face in the mirrors part, smeared with the blood from that tell-tale heart
Apr 13
Apr 13, 2026 at 5:11 PM UTC
I wrote you a letter
said it was from the heart
the ink I used
really was from my heart
Nov 2, 2025
Nov 2, 2025 at 5:29 PM UTC
On a night, dark and dreary,
I mused, wearily.
Whatever was I to do
With it watching me?
Wings as black as night,
Ink dripping, feathers like knives.
It has eyes like stars
In a somber, summer sky.
It turned its head and trilled,
Exactly 13 times.
Each note an alarm of distress
Inside my plagued mind.
It was here for me.
It shuffled its black feathers
And unfurled its dark wings,
Showing nothing but a heart.
This heart, my life, my ever-
Changing tune. This song
Began lively, crescendoing.
Ending with a thump.
I watched it falter.
I stared at it and counted.
I got to thirteen,
And then I watched as it stopped.
Aug 13, 2025
Aug 13, 2025 at 12:49 PM UTC
my heart is tucked away
under the floorboards
in the back of your brain.
out of sight,
out of mind.
because you couldn't look me in the eye.
but i still haunt you,
don't i?
do you hear me?
does the sound of me
remind you?
does the guilt follow you?
am I driving you insane?
do i make you want to scream?
are you going to confess your sin?
will you tell anyone of the crime
you know you committed?
is my heart beating loud enough
for you to peel back the floorboards once more,
and find the pieces of me,
torn apart by you?
Nov 22, 2024
Nov 22, 2024 at 12:00 PM UTC
Oh darling,
How truly pleasing you are
Your gaze shifts to mine unknowing
If only you knew the power you're holding
Oh how I adore those helpless eyes
It's truly a shame they do no real looking
Clip, clop you walk steadily off
No! Don't go!
Oh darling,
Don't you understand I adore you.
Or have I not made it clear?
Well allow me to demonstrate my dear
How hopelessly, helpless i've become
Please won't you let me have you
Oh for heaven's sake!
You can not just ignore me,
Love me I beg you
Oh darling,
It appears you truly are blind
Or is it just that I've stolen your eyes?
You would not return my gaze
So I forced it
What a horrible mistake I've made
But no remorse do I have for it
Smick! Smack! You try to crawl away
No! You mustn't go!
Oh darling,
I've captured you once more
Not just in my gaze, of that I am sure
It appears my ropes are too tight.
You are turning blue like the brightest of skies.
Let me tell you the sweetest of lies.
Slithering, slipping, sliding through my grasp,
Your breath is drawing fewer.
Oh darling,
What have I done?
You were my one true love,
Why did you have to fade to grey?
Should I have just admired you and stayed away?
How I miss those helpless, sightless eyes
I am the monster who destroyed you
Oh darling,
I wish I had never known you.
Oct 22, 2021
Oct 22, 2021 at 11:29 AM UTC
The Perfect day is one where it's raining all day
Spent reading Edgar Allan Poe or listening to one of his poems
While writing poetry all day or night
Which is what I did while listening to said poet
As I thought about what a Raven once said
So "Quoth the Raven Nevermore.”
Jul 29, 2021
Jul 29, 2021 at 7:51 PM UTC
There's two people that will always stand out to me
Both of them are poets and writers
But one of them is also a chapter book writer
The other once said "NEVERMORE"
The other didn't but only read that quote
Now the only thing they both have in common with me is that they inspired me to write poetry
Jul 29, 2021
Jul 29, 2021 at 7:25 PM UTC
Once upon a day of spring, while I thought, in the early morning,
Over many an empty and ignored notebook paper on my floor—
While I was writing, nothing shocking, there was a sudden knocking,
As of something frantically pounding, pounding at my chamber door.
“ ‘Tis the poet’s muse,” I uttered, “knocking at my chamber door—
I’ll let it in, nothing more.”
Ah, with sorrow I can recall how onto pages the words would fall,
And every phrase was brought to me from a tempest to the shore.
Eagerly I searched the sands;—digging for them with frenzied hands
I would find my poems, but I can—can never find them anymore—
For the wretched but beautiful language that was once my being’s core—
Beyond my reach, evermore.
And the symphony of a distant dirge filled me with a sudden urge,
Enthralled me—thrilled me with lavish courage felt certain times before;
So that now, in spite of what is real, I opened the door with zeal
And asked, “Muse, will I never heal? Am I destined to find empty shores?”
A buffoon was I, for nothing but a whisper far off from my door.
Quoth the whisper, “Evermore.”
“Be that word your leave, fake muse, you mirage!” I howled with grieve—
“Stay no longer in my presence, knock no longer on my door!”
But the whisper, the muse, remains still lurking outside causing me pain—
Incessant knocking, there’s no refrain—more papers strewn on the floor.
I plead with the muse, I beg it to take flight from my chamber door.
The muse just states, “Evermore.”
Jun 1, 2020
Jun 1, 2020 at 11:35 AM UTC
my soul is stuck
in old, coastal towns;
a cup of strong coffee in hand;
i can drown in its taste
mixed with my heartbeat running amok.
the sound of the rain
threatens to deform the roof,
as if the midnight sky
was trying
to read her sadness out loud
to the unmarked graves
beyond my ribs;
as if the raindrops
were prison guards
chasing after my soul,
waiting to cage it
back in place.
the broken clock
tells me it's still midnight,
but for all i know,
it may yet be another
sleepless night kinda
monochromatic daybreak
and
i can no longer tell which is louder —
the storm inside my head
or outside.
Jul 2, 2019
Jul 2, 2019 at 2:39 AM UTC
The sadness leers
Coming from with in
Hateful cry’s ring in your ears
How dark could these be, such dreary sin
The light is now feeble
The demons come near
Nothing is as evil
Do not cry now dear
Look around you
The flames burn forever
You did not have a clue
You are not ready for this endeavor
Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 11:32 PM UTC
As a darkness descends to these troubled lands,
carefully watching are those who feel a cold shrill,
hear with frozen aching,
breathing in the quickening frost...
Growing hoary slowly,
as the rime it seeds,
pressed blades of grass feel the man in need...
This is a toll that must be paid!
Her fleeting thoughts dance with the wind as she twirls about spinning into the winter’s descent...
Darkness falls and so doth she,
her thoughts in brightness, uncoupled glee,
her heart in love and mind carefree...
A sweeping, dashing, vision he shows,
In moon as deep earth,
her sweet heart glows,
“Forget the quickly, approaching fee!”
“Dear Night, oh Darkness; spare this man!”
“I see you, -hear me for I plead too, I’m watching from your ice-gripped troubled land!”
“Take me instead; I’ll pay his cost or your dark soul is truly lost!”
*“I twirl with woe, I dance thus so, -wanton abandon…
the shivering cold and this ice I stand in,
Your chill, the frost, the illness and the terrible cost,
...our crops and all our people lost,
and still I shall ignore your hand!"*
THEN HE DIES!
*“No, your reparations I thus will pay!
Leave us now, unburden this land, your frory wind is not his plan,
God does love us, -he’ll stay your hand!”*
*“Some sign, an answer, please, oh please!
On frosted grass I press my knees,
will you not hear my lovelorn cries?
Why must you take him, why must he die?
I cannot stand so idly by!”*
“How can you torment such good men, our town, our lands, tis ours, our home this place you’re in?"
Frigid heart of icy Dragon,
feels not nothing, mourns no loss,
bears down harder with his frost
and punishes them all for a sin...
“You beastly anger!”
“The cold hand of darkness in my eyes, my heart burns bright with moonlit scorn!”
A trumpet sounds when lightning strikes,
and thunder heard, it splits the night!
*“A toll too great I shall not mourn,
Soulless winter’s passing bound,
in frosted days of chilling found,
You maketh tender hearts thus lost.
Your winter brings her frozen frost,
You tear and break frozen land asunder,
destroy our love our hearts you plunder!
Be gone such evil, lest love soon die, my heart he holds, my soul and sky!”*
“Your freezing laughter has distended me…”
Storm God
“Clouds of fury, thunders might, upon that moon, clouds cover her light!"
"Sweeping winds, wisps of ice and snowy swirls opaque the night, freeze that man, take his life!”
“Break, then shatter with my cold spells of ice, he, then she, with no respite; I shall forever control the night!"
“Tell tale of love to me in playful fancy?”
“The darkness I bring; cower as your lives in fright, no man shall evade my thunderous might!”
“Sway me not oh fairy dancer from my cold winter in your bones shall arise a chilling cancer!”
“Destroy I must and hear you not, your land in peril with a wind I roar, cry you will in pain and so much more!”
“I am this world’s white awful sore!”
“Beg you shall, whimpering dearly, for darkness cometh so swift, severely!”
“Feel it, hear it, a painful sound my thunder shatters the peace with world renown!”
“As once, as was, forever more and now I smite so deafening score, I deliver you both to death’s door!”
“There is no heart within this storm; there shall be no heart in earth forevermore!”
“Love you say”
“…as if I know?”
“BE GONE NOW CURSED MOONLIT GLOW!”
“No life, no love, no NOT nothing, no, from nothingness I come and to nothingness you go!”
“Thus an answer to your pathetic dancing, your spinning motions, your frivolous prancing,"
“A stronger wind, a tor-na-do, witness the awful power I sow,”
“...my heartless mind to which you sing, out dance that you spineless twinning!”
“Die!”
“Yes, -die!”
“With his dead heart I’ll crush your soul for yours IS my quest to break!”
“Time is such a fleeting flower and Lo, I come with all my power, your time has come this is the hour!”
“I hate your love; die for me, your bond is cur-sed I decree!”
“My children are the Nephilim, their snowy crystals I turn to rain and freeze it quickly about your ankles for you as he, shall not escape, nothing, no one shall escape, all the creatures shall die this time for I am the maker of the flood, I am the abyss, the king of wisdom, the tree of knowledge, the one of action, crowned master of the earthen plane, the king of gods and king of kings and origin of all things, if God there is then he is I and what I create I shall make die! Know this mere mortal, the name of betwixting thing you learn…”
*“I am that old God known as Sah-turn!”
“My toll do I demand from thou!”
“My toll I ask, I DEMAND IT NOW!”
Sobbing sadness as she prostrates her hands to ice, her ankles bound and crying is the only sound...
The ego of the deity is in question, she searches for another way, a path of inquiry to make him stay, for the horrible fate wrought this day and lands of beauty coldly buried away...
For what could change the mind of darkness?
“Master, I see the wheels have ground to a halt and you’ve descended from the heaven’s vault but how can such lowly animals and nature be at fault, for is it not the goblins of the saw that should be punished, that should be sought?”
“Those who chop away at your great tree are the ones who smile with uncoupled glee for they smite your creation and tear it down and care not for your might, your world renown!”
“All nature is but your possession, oh timeless infinity I do not question, your purpose or need but I do ask, nay beg of thee, allow my love to thus be free, let us hold each other if we die, see my supplication, hear my cry!”
“If let go we will with all haste and prudence, your wrath is great and our presence a nuisance, away from this troubled land you’ve made, the frozen tundra of the grave, a night wrapped by your terrible song in this evil place we do not belong,”
"...please let us run!"
“You have cloaked the beauty of the moon, covered her sky, I beseech you master hear my cry above the thunders of your sky, wrestle free my love from grip, let us pass, let us slip, let us go this night, oh great black wheel and great north wind and wolf and beast and Dragon from the faraway east and master of the air and seas and Lord of all as your voice decrees, I beg here on my dying knees,”
“The toll you demand is a life for a life, save him, put me under the frosty knife!”
Rumble, rumbling pondered thoughts, the wind is ceased and snow dies down and ground gets soft as air warms up and moonlight shines as clouds dissipate while the god of night decides their fate...
Her sobbing subsides as the ice and snow become water and seep into the earth, her dress soaking and hands covered in mud she addresses this king of kings once more. She stands and fills her lungs with warmth and begins to dance a dance of thanks to him who is hidden but a chilly wind shows that it is still forbidden. Her love watches from yonder far hill as she holds back her dance and stands so still, calling out to the color of night, stern her voice has no sign of fright...
“Punish the land and make your mark for that will teach us to give offerings to the dark,”
“Give rage unto that which hath no heart, pummel the earth and sink the ark.”
“Oh he is such a jewel to me, I’ll dance no more, I’ll show no glee, and no happiness to smite your sea in your great debt I thus will be!”
“Call your hordes, all four to thee, let them of wisdom punish me, my dancing finished great Gyges, your ring of darkness; oh wine-dark seas!”
“The four are eager for the flight to crack the seals and split the night, and show the signs, enact the plan, and run dark in blood this troubled land.”
“You see my master? We know your tales and tell our children the wonder and the mystery of our ark that floats upon your sea and all the things we know you make for we teach our children of them for heaven’s sake!”
“As natures hand you make the call, Oh Famine! Oh Pestilence! Oh Plague! Oh Death, -bring them all!”
“Come now in darkness for your master calls, his voice too loud as to be vague…”
“Run we shall, away, away…”
“Your great power, oh great one, the shatterer, thunderer, the bringer of the nightly fall, watch your subjects cringe and crawl, and supplicate on hands and knees with praise upon your mighty awe.”
“Why not bring them? Bring them all?”
“Enforce your toll, make your presence known, reap the seeds of what you’ve sown, our lives have always been yours to own, for you are great upon this land, your fury descends with mighty hand, now and forever shall it be known, no man can seat above your throne!”
“The trees thus stripped of their leaves and these hands are whipped upon our grieves,”
“Save my love from those stinging leaves from wintery chill and icy snows, hand of darkness, north wind that blows,”
“Lightning strikes and deadly throes,”
“In mercy your true power shows,”
“For you are the master, king of night, maker of fear, of horrible fright, the Ouroboros, the clouds your wings, the heaven’s motions, order of all things, the one who rings the magnificent treasure, the source of all our earthly pleasure, one to which we all do pray, -alas Ethiopia, dawn a new day!”*
“The moon descends as does your power tis dawn you fool, that is the hour!”
“You can keep your anger and unpaid toll we’ll keep our love, our lives and my gentle soul.”
Storm God
“YOU DARE! YOU DO! YOU MOCK ME STILL?”
“Here comes my weathering, wintry, malicious chill!”
*“Child die as your suitor must, this night, this storm, this hour unto my lightning ****** Rain, hail, fury thehowling winds of wolven glory and end I put to this sorrow’s story, down the trees, wash away the lands, rip apart the heavens know my hand!”*
“…and what is this nocturnal noise?”
“In my storm are birds chirping? Is that daylight on horizon now? Nature cannot desert me, no, not now!”
“The daybreak shines, undoes my vow, ceases my storm and scatters my clouds; know this mortal is not the end for I shall come back again!Your words and pleas will not save you then, this trickery I shall not forget, your souls I’m coming back to get and when I do you’ll grovel in fear for you’ll know the moment of death is near!”
“On that night you’ll pay my toll, I SHALL NOT REST WITHOUT YOUR SOUL!”
Aug 15, 2016
Aug 15, 2016 at 11:14 PM UTC
She always stood by the sea at night. She always loved the noise it made, and her memories would crash with one another just like the waves did. Her pale skin remained the same after my Annabel died. She was just a body without a soul, my love, she was already dead before she died. her long pitch black hair would flow with the wind. I would watch my love from the balcony, and she would be happy. Something she never was when she was home. My Annabel was in love. but not with me, but with the sea. Because it gave her something I couldn't possibly give to her and that was comfort. Her favorite place was the cliff, where she would sit with her feet hanging.But on that particular night, her feet weren't the only thing that would fall from the cliff. My Annabel has died...
Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 4:04 PM UTC
Forgive me sir Edgar Allen
Poe I must write this out because it's maddening
Me to no foreseeable end
I stand here, right noe, at ravens end.
I walked outside the chamber onto the Astral plane
And saw the thoughts, scribbles and pops that amounted in crowds insane
What was in my sight by no means plain
And I stood there, contemplating at ravens end.
An ebony bird flew onto my shoulder looking out at the subconscious murmurings gathered by the pink and gooey Boulder
He crowed loudly, silencing the ideas so I could speak
I shouted to them "FELLOW CITIZENS WE MUST OVER TAKE THE PEAK!"
"WE MUST SEARCH OUT AND RECLAIM WHAT MADE US UNIQUE!"
And the raven crowed again, it seemed as if it wished to speak.
Rousing the ideas were, and creativity flowed back into my head
Reactivating circutry that was once long dead
And outside the lab where I was laid to rest
A raven flew back home to his nest
He crowed loudly, so loud that one could hear what he had to say at the neighborhood store
And so I quote the raven... nevermore
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 1:30 AM UTC
I demand Edgar Allan Poe to cut open my brain.
My thoughts would pour out unto the room.
Like rising water to the tip of my lips.
Leaving me stuck in between that moment.
Where I'm given the choice to drown or be left gasping for air.
As his Raven claws at my stomach trying to free himself.
From the mimicking & mockery of my fiction.
As my crow elegantly, resting at the end of my fingers tips calls out my name.
My arm left outstretched reaching for a sky.
In a world I could never find rest in.
Engulfing me in ravaging, epiphanic darkness.
For I have grown wings stitched from everything I have loved and left.
Whom now lays dead and made in form of feathers.
Dipped in brooding black ink.
As I leave this world of pain & comfort.
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 2:18 AM UTC
Waiting Still for Tomorrow
Deafening tone,
Makes me not alone,
Continually singing a sorrow.
Bring not today,
For I beg keep away,
That lament until Tomorrow.
It whispers so loud,
“You are lost in the crowd,
Lost in a sea of harrow.”
It’s censure grew — strewth!
Mocking my sad truth,
Threatening what follows Tomorrow.
I attempt to evade —
Stopped by a palisade,
Yes, stopped by a wall of yarrow.
Plucking mere few,
Intent to make new,
My wounds and be healed by Tomorrow.
“Sweet yarrow await,
I shall be kept late,
By that tormentor who inflicts sorrow,”
But yarrow soon will fade,
Leave my mind in the shade, and
My heart waiting still for Tomorrow.
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 3:05 AM UTC
twisted and dark
the demon in my mind
i reflect an angel
but inside i am dying
my rivers have all flooded
and now they're dry
and i thought i was drowning
but now i must die
i do not want life
and i do not wish for death
but i do hope for a medium
inbetween where i can
stop floating in the abyss
of my angst mind
filled with sorrow
and guilt for merely being alive
i wonder what normal people
are like
but i will never know
because if you want a definition for
insanity, then look no further
than into my own mind
sometimes it's a good time
it causes for uncomfortable poems
that only the dark
will understand
that only the people who grieve
and mourn at breathing
the one's who have thorns
poking their eyes
us who see beauty
in death
we romanticize the things others fear
we are poets
we write poetry
about the things
we secretly thrive off of
we write poetry
when we are staring into space
at 2 in the morning
we write about the silence
we write about all of the bad things
we write about all of the good things
we write
thats all we do
and sometimes we laugh
and sometimes we'd rather be dead
than move our fingers onto paper
oncemore
but as poets
our duty is to be the disturbed
and the ******
and i will do my best at making your skin rise
because by now im more than used to the feeling of things shattering
inside of my own bones
and i will tear you limb from limb
and lick my fingers when the blood
is still fresh
uncomfortable yet?
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 9:33 PM UTC
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
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 3:39 PM UTC