Man of dark musings and opiate vision!
Mind of pits and rats,
Black cats and ancestral corpses!
How is it that love sparkled within those dark recesses,
Like diamonds within a bedrock of obsidian—
That verse sprang from that ebony hand,
As vibrant and unlikely as lilacs from snow?
Tales of cities under the sea,
Of waves weeping softly, “Annabel Lee!”
Did the bells, the bells, the bells, foretell of your demise,
Or was it borne on Raven’s wings, thus falling from the sky?
Could it be that your last vision was your brightest?
Oh, soul of all that is night,
Inspire my pen to wail and to write.
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