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Poe’s Hourglass: A Melancholic Decree

Once upon a midnight dreary,
As sands slip through life’s hourglass, eerie,
I pondered upon my penitent past,
And the regrets that will forever last.

Time, that wicked thief, has stolen away,
Leaving behind fragments of my yesterday.
Each grain, a specter, fell with a sigh,
A haunting reminder of moments gone by.

Regrets, like phantoms,  torment my soul,
Their presence an anguish I cannot control.
Paths untrodden, chances missed,
Eternally trapped in a remorseful abyss.

The hourglass, a harbinger of mortality,
Hath measured my existence with cruel finality.
As grains descend, my heart doth weep,
Lost in the void of time, where plutonian specters meet. 

In vain, I grasped at the sands so fleet,
But they slipped through my fingers with deceit. 
A pallid burden I could not divest,
Heavy upon my chest, a weight doth rest.

O’ time! That cruel, relentless foe,
With each passing moment, thy presence dost grow.
No respite, no solace, can I find,
Like a thief in the night, gone is my time.

And now, in the dark recesses of my desolate mind, 
I find sorrow in the verses I bind.
For in these words, I resurrect demons of the past,
And find memories mournful, that will forever last.

In the style of Poe, I lament the unyielding sands of time,
A symbol of life’s ever fleeting, haunting rhyme.
Regrets! Regrets, forever thy shall be,
In the hourglass of life, a melancholic decree.

And as the sands doth slip, and the ravens soar,
I hear the whispers of, “Nevermore”.


-Edward

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