Edgar Hp and Mr King

A written word wistfully wrought into a compendium grim, Of the darkling ravens beset upon the plutonian shores, Hither did your shapeless muse invade our psyche and vapid minds dim, Edgar has retired his effete quill yet still it inscribes beyond our slumbering doors, Into the ebony emptiness of a nebulous night, Stranger the stars wheeling acrid the sky keening past the silver gate, The grip of Hypnos tugs upon the astral cord of Dantean flight, Around Innsmouth conticent shadows arise unbound by the dreamer's fate, Missdeeming angles converge the zenith disguised, The hounds approach Tindalos has awoke from his hypnic repose, Descending down to the fathomless depths within R'lyeh's halls Cthulhu prepares for his imminent supernal rise, H.P. you dared to dwell upon the periphery of folie your mantle taken up by future librettist anew to compose, Mr. King, Mr. King your words, sui generis, liberated this vestigial mind, Carrie the queen, Cujo, how does your coat gleam Neath an insomniac's sky, Silence plays in the streets of Lot just around the bend Christine's cherry shine, Tommyknockers knock after a Stand is taken, dusty boots bestride upon a pathless road naught is heard but a lone gunslinger's sigh. A Mist departed for a raven flurrying to Lenore, It dropped Poe's Palladian laurels before H.P.'s forlorn feet, Visions of the Crimson King preparing his generous gift, a Colour from space not seen before, A Delphic legacy handed to a youthful King entranced by a sulphuric smile and a clown's gentle wile the circus awaits all below Derry's cozy streets