Doomed To Feel That Bite and Hear Serpent's Wicked Hiss

(1A.) Doomed To Feel That Bite And Hear Serpent's Wicked Hiss Beyond mingling of Light, Matter, Human thought reams of coils within darkest abyss are there caught denied rays emitted by our reddish flame sun wherein single feather may weigh a billion tons lay boiling cauldrons of spittle and greedy lust built upon sad foundations of mankind's dying dust! Immune from wailing tears that victims so oft shed and morose choked valleys of warriors slow bled storing loud echoes that darkness holds very dear are battalions that spreadeth greatest mortal fear joined in deep agonies with Life and Fated Time destruction across every place and clime! Alas! As terror brings woes to humanity for its wicked deeds, and arrogant vanity as an unmerciful world, tentacles wide spread from birth of human flesh until stone-cold and dead and beneath blue sky and mother earth left to rot forever gone, dear life, love, and all man has got! Within coils are lost souls in spinning black abyss, Doomed to feel that bite and hear serpent's wicked hiss! R.J. Lindley, July 26th-1990 Dark Rhyme, ( Are Mortals Doomed To This World Stay Blinded And Lost ) ( Tribute to Edgar Allen Poe ) References, Edgar Allen Poe, Two of his most recognizable works (1.) The Fall of The House of Usher and -, (2.) Raven - (NOT MENTIONED DIRECTLY, BUT IN SPIRIT GHOSTED)... (2.B) Always In Search Of Echoes, Rarely Ever Heard In silence, I seek deep solitude of my pain as reclusive ghost drowning in slow flushing drain spiraling in abyss that destroys precious life bleeding torrents cut by humanity's sharp knife suspended above darkness, nothingness below macabre imagery of late night horror show. Waking as black-forest burns its long wailing trees strange image of a sad ghost cut off at its knees knowing this charade is just a poor poet's dream fantasy born to hear some more low silent screams pleading to stop that loud watery, rushing sound just another victim, not completely hell bound. In silence, heartbroken among life's dying herd. Always in search of echoes, rarely ever heard. R.J. Lindley, June 22nd, 1990 Dark sonnet, ( Well Beyond Midnight's Long Silent Parades ) Note: *This welcome from beyond midnight's hazy halo *Journey into the Dark, few rarely ever go *An imaginative rendering by a muse *One given in a way, I could never refuse. ADDITIONAL NOTE- Each poem has over the years been edited several times, including today, making four edits first poem and three edits on the second poem.