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In my sanctuary’s hush where Poe’s tales I clasp
Into his world I plunge with a breath, a rasp.
Beneath the creaking floorboards a heart's pulse
In my mind, my mind, oh it throbs and gasps;
Suddenly then I'm the culprit in horror's vice! 
My soul enclasped.

Entombed alive in a sepulcher so deeply confined.
Where terror's craftful dasterly design 
I awaken in crypt's obscurity.
Dread, a palpable force andreality maligned and intertwined
In untimely interment against all fear, unity.

In this sepulchral cell my heartbeat amplifies
Resonates with each creak and each stifled sigh.
Shadows dance where darkness lies
I'm bound by dread...
under a moonless blood sky.

The mirror now reveals a spectral face
William Wilson in my reality is encased!!
In a duel to demise a most chilling, dread-filled chase
In this tale of terror 
in an unknown space, Oh, I'm defaced.

Yes, that Rue Morgue's enigma beckons me near
Its heinous act a memory branded and seared.
A most chilling tale is whispeubg in every single ear!
In this enigmatic realm where darkness is clear.
In Dupin’s shoes, vigilant, I stand
Unraveling clues with an acute mind 
I demand!
Those dark secrets unfurl in this haunting lost land
In a tale of horror... 
where truth takes a resolute stand.

Bound and defenseless, horror, the pendulum descends!
Closer it swings! as time... in stillness suspends.
In the pit and the pendulum my fate depends on
A tale of terror that never ever ends along with

The pendulum’s deadly arc is a chilling strain...
A relentless blade and a tormentor's gain.
In the depths of my despair 
Why am I forced to maintain
A will to survive, to survive and endure 
that pain.

With a shudder I close the book and return to my realm
Shaking off the dread seeking calm at the helm.
Poe's tales, linger, like a haunting spectral elm.
Leaving me entangled in their 
otherworldly realm.

Yet, as I gaze around it seems something is amiss,
The room, cloaked in darkness, the abysmal abyss.
A shiver down my spine... a chilling kiss!?
I'm trapped in Poe's world 
I am sealed in its crypt.

Beneath the floorboards a heart slowly beats...
A rhythmic pulse as my fear slowly retreats.
I'm haunted by the narrator's common plea
"Villains! Dissemble no more! I admit it! I did it!"

The pendulum descends again with a hiss....
This isn't just a story it's a crevasse /
I scream and I shout into the lonely mist!
But there's no escape from 
this horrifying mess.

With final swing the pendulum strikes /
The pain is for real like a thousand spikes.
And as darkness descends and light takes flight
I realize my fate, my soul's all Hallowed Night.

Am I trapped in Poe's world... forevermore?
Am I just a writer with a quill in hand, bleeding obscure lore?
Or is this but a writer's fevered, fevered dream... 
A mind unexplored?

In a Rhapsodic style their flaws were on display
With all their humanized traits their weaknesses conveyed.
For wisdom seems to remain a complex quest
An eternal mystery in each owl's breast.

Somewhere in the dark silent night breezes,
Socrates whispers, "I neither know nor think I know—
Wisdom is knowing you know nothing."
And then he smiles and lets it go.
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