Bastard Child

Like a penny, lost and worthless, woman mother, and buried within the origin pit, dark she brought me like a Jezebel into her life of mourning mistress of the stage and child to horror born, and off he ran, forced flight my father, loss the hussy dies but on Edgar lives in awe. Blood and death and pain feed Poe’s awe. Why she had done, what soul had she, this woman leaving him a found fledgling of loss? “Why, why, bring me into this hellish dark?” Coal black the pit and pendulum of this zealot father’s horror the devil’s drink brought penitence and forced, mourning. “Bastard child!” his stepfather screamed in mourning as his new Mother looked on in awe. And, his new brother watched on in horror, the lash was not spared nor kindness brought by woman. In the starkness of his mind there was only dark. Abandoned child, Poe, and his rescuers brought only loss. “Run, leave, you villains all!” He cried. “There is only loss!” So on, he wrote into the dark and mourning. The ink the Prussian blue released the anguish his dark. Intuition, and superstitious fright will feed him awe. Cousin, sister, wife, would be his woman the banshees cry, her bloody death became his horror. “Alone, alone…” The corbies’s caw brings horror, but for the devil’s drink, he’s naught but loss........ “Lenore…..” He’ll wall his tainted heart away from woman and make his blasted soul the start of mourning. “To hell with you!” He screams at those in awe of his blank and burned out hulk of dark. Bricked in or deep within the ripest dark... “God, so alone……….” He hides in horror, forlorn, depraved and not at all in awe. For there is no romance found in loss no beauteous bounty in the dross of mourning, no family, friend or wife not tainted, born from woman. So, Poe lives and dies in awe of the dark. Where woman’s deepest depths bring only horror and loss is all he knows in light of mourning.