Notes About The Poem
Robert J. Lindley,
My second poem written on the greatest dark poetry author, the Master Poet, Edgar Allen Poe.
Started -- November 9th, 1973
Finished - this morn, April 2nd, 2018
Note- I truly wish that I had finished this back 45 years ago, as I feel my current writing does not measure up. Why I left this half finished I have no memory- but finish the piece I felt that I must.
Nightmares and Master Poe's Greatest Riddle
Nightmares and Master Poe's Greatest Riddle
I took a silver fork, gold spoon and rusty knife
trying to cut away the dark stains in my life,
with each slice I stood aghast, dumbfounded finding more
chained was I, in torture room without any floor.
On its walls hung hands and heads of the blackest dead,
all its walls washed in blood so very, very red,
angry shadows that would reach out to stab at will
for my every anguished moan gave them a great thrill.
An eternity, night bled as it slowly passed,
not enough time to pay for my dark sins amassed,
each morn came revelation, just before dawn's break
next to me was he, Master Poe bound to a stake.
He would wake, speak to me as if a long lost friend,
promise this paradise, my time would never end
and then summon his Raven to chide me as well
laughing loud, saying, welcome my friend to my Hell.
I begged, Master Poe, release me, let me go
I beg you, Lord and Master of this horror show,
I see you control all in this evil abode
lessen thy dark-handed grip, release thy firm hold.
With a sardonic smile he would give his reply
off you go, return each night my Raven shall fly,
to this dark curse, I gave my sorrowful reply
please Master Poe, tell me, tell me the reason why.
His echoes rang as away my torn body flew
Raven leaves Hades at midnight's stroke is your clue,
with its flight comes both sweet pleasures and epic pains
one for truest of love, other for darkest of stains.
Now I wrestled for years this riddle, its vague clue
sought out every wise man, this one thing I knew,
the truest of love was his, Master Poe's Annabel Lee
but how, how could that tidbit ever free me?
Tonight I pray that this tired, pleading soul may rest
as I live in pain on this Poe torturing quest,
my plea pitiful but true to this old poet's heart,
please give me the riddle's answer, so life can restart!
Robert J. Lindley,
My second poem written on the greatest dark poetry author, the Master Poet, Edgar Allen Poe.
Started -- November 9th, 1973
Finished - this morn, April 2nd, 2018
Note- I truly wish that I had finished this back 45 years ago, as I feel my current writing does not measure up. Why I left this half finished I have no memory- but finish the piece I felt that I must.
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