"dissever" poems
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my ANNABEL LEE;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my ANNABEL LEE.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the side of the sea.
86.9k
Dim vales—and shadowy floods—
And cloudy-looking woods,
Whose forms we can’t discover
For the tears that drip all over
Huge moons there wax and wane—
Again—again—again—
Every moment of the night—
Forever changing places—
And they put out the star-light
With the breath from their pale faces.
About twelve by the moon-dial
One more filmy than the rest
(A kind which, upon trial,
They have found to be the best)
Comes down—still down—and down
With its centre on the crown
Of a mountain’s eminence,
While its wide circumference
In easy drapery falls
Over hamlets, over halls,
Wherever they may be—
O’er the strange woods—o’er the sea—
Over spirits on the wing—
Over every drowsy thing—
And buries them up quite
In a labyrinth of light—
And then, how deep!—O, deep!
Is the passion of their sleep.
In the morning they arise,
And their moony covering
Is soaring in the skies,
With the tempests as they toss,
Like—almost any thing—
Or a yellow Albatross.
They use that moon no more
For the same end as before—
Videlicet a tent—
Which I think extravagant:
Its atomies, however,
Into a shower dissever,
Of which those butterflies,
Of Earth, who seek the skies,
And so come down again
(Never-contented thing!)
Have brought a specimen
Upon their quivering wings.
7.3k
how terribly dull
what pitiful fools
who can't think for themselves
and abide all the rules
how wonderfully clever
and unequal in measure
are those brave few who dissever
themselves, from platitudinous notions, and live free, forever.
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 11:17 PM UTC
When the chill of earth black-breasted is uplifted at the
glance
Of the red sun million-crested, and the forest blossoms
dance
With the light that stirs and lustres of the dawn, and with
the bloom
Of the wind’s cheek as it clusters from the hidden valley’s
gloom :
Then I walk in woodland spaces, musing on the solemn
ways
Of the immemorial places shut behind the starry rays
Of the East and all its splendour, of the West and all its peace;
And the stubborn lights grow tender, and the hard sounds
hush and cease.
In the wheel of heaven revolving, mysteries of death and
birth,
In the wonb of time dissolving, shape anew a heaven and
earth
Ever changing, ever growing, ever dwindling, ever dear,
Ever worth the passion glowing to distil a doubtful tear.
These are with me, these are of me, these approve me,
these obey,
Choose me, move me, fear me, love me, master of the
night and day.
These are real, these illusion : I am of them, false or frail,
True or lasting, all is fusion in the spirit’s shadow-veil,
Till the knowledge -Lotus flowering hides the world
beneath its stem;
Neither I, nor nor God life-showering, find a counterpart in
them.
As a spirit in a vision shows a countenance in fear,
Laughs the looker to derision, only comes to disappear,
Gods and mortals, mind and matter, in the glowing bud
dissever :
Vein from vein they rend and shatter, and are nothingness
for ever.
In the blessed, the enlightened, perfect eyes these visions
pass,
Pass and cease, poor shadows frightened,
leave no stain
upon the glass.
One last stroke, O heart- free master, one last certain
calm of will,
And the maker of Disaster shall be strcken and grow
still.
Burn thou to the core of matter, to the spirit’s utmost
flame,
Consciousness and sense to shatter, ruin sight and form
and name!
Shatter, lake-reflected spectre; lake, rise up in mist to
sun;
Sun, dissolve in showers of nectar, and the Master’s
work is done.
Nectar perfume gently stealing, masterful and sweet and
strong,
Cleanse the world with light of healing in the ancient
House of Wrong !
Free a million mortals on the wheel of
being
tossed !
Open wide the mystic portals, and be altogether lost!
2.3k
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
~Edgar Allan Poe
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 11:31 AM UTC
The rain set early in tonight,
The sullen wind was soon awake,
It tore the elm-tops down for spite,
And did its worst to vex the lake:
I listened with heart fit to break.
When glided in Porphyria; straight
She shut the cold out and the storm,
And kneeled and made the cheerless grate
Blaze up, and all the cottage warm;
Which done, she rose, and from her form
Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl,
And laid her soiled gloves by, untied
Her hat and let the damp hair fall,
And, last, she sat down by my side
And called me. When no voice replied,
She put my arm about her waist,
And made her smooth white shoulder bare,
And all her yellow hair displaced,
And, stooping, made my cheek lie there,
And spread, o’er all, her yellow hair,
Murmuring how she loved me—she
Too weak, for all her heart’s endeavor,
To set its struggling passion free
From pride, and vainer ties dissever,
And give herself to me forever.
But passion sometimes would prevail,
Nor could tonight’s gay feast restrain
A sudden thought of one so pale
For love of her, and all in vain:
So, she was come through wind and rain.
Be sure I looked up at her eyes
Happy and proud; at last I knew
Porphyria worshiped me: surprise
Made my heart swell, and still it grew
While I debated what to do.
That moment she was mine, mine, fair,
Perfectly pure and good: I found
A thing to do, and all her hair
In one long yellow string I wound
Three times her little throat around,
And strangled her. No pain felt she;
I am quite sure she felt no pain.
As a shut bud that holds a bee,
I warily oped her lids: again
Laughed the blue eyes without a stain.
And I untightened next the tress
About her neck; her cheek once more
Blushed bright beneath my burning kiss:
I propped her head up as before
Only, this time my shoulder bore
Her head, which droops upon it still:
The smiling rosy little head,
So glad it has its utmost will,
That all it scorned at once is fled,
And I, its love, am gained instead!
Porphyria’s love: she guessed not how
Her darling one wish would be heard.
And thus we sit together now,
And all night long we have not stirred,
And yet God has not said a word!
2.2k
Eliza! what fools are the Mussulman sect,
Who, to woman, deny the soul’s future existence;
Could they see thee, Eliza! they’d own their defect,
And this doctrine would meet with a general resistance.
Had their Prophet possess’d half an atom of sense,
He ne’er would have woman from Paradise driven;
Instead of his Houris, a flimsy pretence,
With woman alone he had peopled his Heaven.
Yet, still, to increase your calamities more,
Not content with depriving your bodies of spirit,
He allots one poor husband to share amongst four!—
With souls you’d dispense; but, this last, who could bear it?
His religion to please neither party is made;
On husbands ’tis hard, to the wives most uncivil;
Still I can’t contradict, what so oft has been said,
“Though women are angels, yet wedlock’s the devil.”
This terrible truth, even Scripture has told,
Ye Benedicks! hear me, and listen with rapture;
If a glimpse of redemption you wish to behold,
Of ST. MATT.—read the second and twentieth chapter.
’Tis surely enough upon earth to be vex’d,
With wives who eternal confusion are spreading;
“But in Heaven” (so runs the Evangelists’ Text)
“We neither have giving in marriage, or wedding.”
From this we suppose, (as indeed well we may,)
That should Saints after death, with their spouses put up more,
And wives, as in life, aim at absolute sway,
All Heaven would ring with the conjugal uproar.
Distraction and Discord would follow in course,
Nor MATTHEW, nor MARK, nor ST. PAUL, can deny it,
The only expedient is general divorce,
To prevent universal disturbance and riot.
But though husband and wife, shall at length be disjoin’d,
Yet woman and man ne’er were meant to dissever,
Our chains once dissolv’d, and our hearts unconfin’d,
We’ll love without bonds, but we’ll love you for ever.
Though souls are denied you by fools and by rakes,
Should you own it yourselves, I would even then doubt you,
Your nature so much of celestial partakes,
The Garden of Eden would wither without you.
1.8k
In spring and summer winds may blow,
And rains fall after, hard and fast;
The tender leaves, if beaten low,
Shine but the more for shower and blast
But when their fated hour arrives,
When reapers long have left the field,
When maidens rifle turn'd-up hives,
And their last juice fresh apples yield,
A leaf perhaps may still remain
Upon some solitary tree,
Spite of the wind and of the rain . . .
A thing you heed not if you see.
At last it falls. Who cares? Not one:
And yet no power on earth can ever
Replace the fallen leaf upon
Its spray, so easy to dissever.
If such be love, I dare not say.
Friendship is such, too well I know:
I have enjoyed my summer day;
'Tis past; my leaf now lies below.
1.5k
Oh! might I kiss those eyes of fire,
A million scarce would quench desire;
Still would I steep my lips in bliss,
And dwell an age on every kiss;
Nor then my soul should sated be,
Still would I kiss and cling to thee:
Nought should my kiss from thine dissever,
Still would we kiss and kiss for ever;
E’en though the numbers did exceed
The yellow harvest’s countless seed;
To part would be a vain endeavour:
Could I desist?—ah! never—never.
1.4k
Oh say not, sweet Anne, that the Fates have decreed
The heart which adores you should wish to dissever;
Such Fates were to me most unkind ones indeed,—
To bear me from Love and from Beauty for ever.
Your frowns, lovely girl, are the Fates which alone
Could bid me from fond admiration refrain;
By these, every hope, every wish were o’erthrown,
Till smiles should restore me to rapture again.
As the ivy and oak, in the forest entwin’d,
The rage of the tempest united must weather;
My love and my life were by nature design’d
To flourish alike, or to perish together.
Then say not, sweet Anne, that the Fates have decreed
Your lover should bid you a lasting adieu:
Till Fate can ordain that his ***** shall bleed,
His Soul, his Existence, are centred in you.
1.2k
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;--
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love--
I and my Annabel Lee--
With a love that the wingèd seraphs in Heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wing blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me:--
Yes!--that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud, by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we--
Of many far wiser than we--
And neither the angels in Heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:--
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling,--my darling,--my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea--
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Dec 28, 2009
Dec 28, 2009 at 8:10 AM UTC
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee—
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 2:33 AM UTC
His silent meditation heard the petals flourished
After that simple harmonic creation of roses,
We saw the ultimate end of the innocent faces,
Again the darkness happened
at the bottom of the conical flux,
Where all particles dissevered to light, air, and sound
And so on -
Except the souls which denied the dissever process,
Where they were settling under a certain dimensional array,
within a unique color code,
Like our universe that decorated the galaxies,
containing the Milky Ways,
our solar system within a certain order,
including our very know planet, the earth,
that has been changing his color since
the last several hundred million years,
Again it will be devoured under big crunch
and after that the space and time,
the big bang again,
The large expanding space like the prophet’s hope
Where we will meet together for unlimited love,
And the ultimate passion,
then our little robin will sing soon
We will wander through our galaxies,
with love and hope perches into our souls
from one light years to another light years
with thousands of whirling dreams
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 4:18 PM UTC
I now sit here with the darkest poet, from long ago,
his sad story is similar to me.
Hidden as Quarles, though him you may know
as the one who loved Annabel Lee.
The difference, his love, loved with no other thought
than to love and be loved by he.
We met young, though I was not a child,
In our kingdom by the sea.
Our love was a love that was stranger than love,
I and the new Annabel Lee.
What is the will of the winged seraphs of heaven?
Do they condone or condemn her and me?
What is the reason that long ago,
in the kingdom by the sea.
That over us came a dark cloud, chilling
my beautiful new Annabel Lee.
Her icy veins now run deep,
and have taken her away from me.
An easier fate be served in a tomb,
residing where the winter tides return from the sea.
Were the dancing angels of heaven
envying her and me?
This must be the reason we part! I know,
as I have been where the winter tides return from the sea.
My love's end differs from Poe, but surely I know
What its like to lose Annabel Lee.
Although your love was stronger by far than the love
of those far older than thee,
and those far wiser than we,
My lost love can't be blamed upon the angels in heaven,
nor the demons down under the sea.
My soul shall dissever from her soul forever,
and I have no one to blame but me.
Yet the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
of the beautiful new Annabel Lee.
And still the stars never rise, without me seeing the eyes
of my darling, that hates me, and abreast I shall ne'er abide.
I shall be the one consumed by the winter tides returning to the sea.
Stuck in the tomb that shall never be.
Jan 1, 2013
Jan 1, 2013 at 10:55 PM UTC
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Edgar Allan Poe
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 10:08 AM UTC
Break the mortal chain,
And dissever its golden coils
All that is, is meant to be undone
The bitter frosts of autumn
They dance upon my lips
And settle low the ground
To steal a flowers breath
And lay them now into their beds
Beyond this mortal stretch
Long for spring my dear,
When winter is in the air
For if we do expire
I will be waiting there
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 3:00 PM UTC
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee—
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 8:52 PM UTC
Years ago I loved a girl named Annie
My Annie lived on an island.
It was Summer when we first met
She has this long silky raven-like hair
Enough to draw the attention of men
She was like a piece carved by angels
Annie was so beautiful that you cannot compare her beauty with everyone else's.
Despite of our differences, she chose me
We loved each other and neither the gods nor the demons can ever separate us.
We danced together while we hum our song
We used to watch the waves kissed the shore
We love forseeing our future together
Our love, no one can ever dissever.
One day, the day we fear the most came
My Annie lived on an island
I live somewhere beyond the horizon
The summer has ended and I need to go home
She was so sad, she didn't bid goodbye
Annie was a seraph, she was once mine
It was a pity that we have to leave it all behind.
Jun 3, 2018
Jun 3, 2018 at 8:48 AM UTC
completely repleted
undulations
stake their claim
to hold this form
with puppet strings
that run beneath
a fevered storm
only just encompassed
struggles to escape
the will to deconstruct
and replace the missing parts
thunder shakes
the earth
both lullaby and curse
something sleeps
and something stirs
the metaphor
within my eyes
slithers like a worm
disquieting surprise
mildly disturbed
infantile arms
grasping towards
the sun
endeavor to dissever
all the light
and see what it becomes
emaciated fingers
reach into my eye
drag the key out from behind
and touch it to the sky
strings like water
from the heavens pour
now to weave the web
and forge the other door
from the mist
ascends the opening
where hands of chaos
play with broken things
the skin i'm in
then ruptures
and the captive
staggers forth
to disestablish
all i am
let the fragments
be woven in the fabric
to stretch forever more
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 7:08 PM UTC
At night, dreaming, not quite asleep I lay,
with head reclining, she came to me, narcissus-eyes shining for the fray,
I watched and listened with heart fit to break,
to which she came unto me straight,
betwixt and made the cheerless grate.
At last, she sat down by my side,
with her beauty which could not be denied,
with wine-red lips she confessed her love,
Drunk in thought aptly I could not have replied.
With vainer ties, a smile, my pride dissever,
I would give myself to her forever,
Unforsakened I, surprised, debated what to do,
My heart swell but still it grew,
That moment she was mine, and I hers
perfectly purely too.
For my heart grows, for you,
and my memory it lasts
for the last and first found thought of you.
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 5:30 PM UTC
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee—
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
Slow down, make time to see me
Carry, all that i gave you
Today
we ruin the weak ropes
that tied us together
to wound us forever.
This time
September, remember
The cold, we dissever
admit that i'd rather
break what we discovered
Cut the ropes
I'll watch you go
Snip the pieces
and let me throw
All the biggest
mistakes that we
should have mowed
awhile ago
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 1:31 AM UTC
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Edgar Allan Poe
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 8:13 AM UTC
Glance a gentle stare
That causes the skin to be bare
Tender to the lightest touch
Or a ginger smile
Dance in grace on a ballroom tile
Bid thee a moonlit dream
Silence my empty scream
Deaf be not the star
Black be not the tar upon ones heart
Only the sweet delight
Of ones sight
Can dissever my bond from misery
Will solve the crude mystery
Behind ones intent to remove the soul
Destroy all memories of a summers stroll
Longing for a few days
Dark skies instead of sun rays
Drown the candle in mourning
Be grateful instead of yearning
Opening vacent hands doesn't compesate
Until you let your pain
Evaporate
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 3:30 PM UTC