Poe's First Love

Woe, unto this heart of men
This mortal soul, I fear is weak
I question God, is this sin?
Bold I was, now humbled and meek

Forsaken by the breath of life
My lungs betray my need to breathe
My heart is pierced by an unseen knife
A foe, my mind cannot perceive

My dreams held captive by enchanted smiles
My hunger, a thing of the past
My sleep now stolen by wicked trials
A torment, that's unsurpassed

What curse is this that leaves me maim,
And renders my body weak?
Does this demon have a name,
That paints my future bleak?

Alas, this wound will never heal
It festers within a crippled soul
'Tis love that's robbed me of my will
For I no longer have control
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

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Devonshire Avatar
June 10, 2011 at 2:15 PM
Wonderful poem about the impact Lenore had on Poe's writing, Larry. I especially wanted to express birthday wishes, having just read Ralph's poem of tribute. Hope you have a great day and manage to keep your mother-in-law at bay! Love and blessings, Carolyn
Onclaud Avatar
June 9, 2011 at 10:39 AM
a lovely lamentation, larry! so full of stunning imagery and sentiments.. happy gemini birthday with huggggs.. just found put when i read ralph's comment below... have a grrreat one!:) nette
Taylor Avatar
June 9, 2011 at 7:57 AM
Awesome, my friend. Sad and depressing but an excellent piece. Great job. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Larry and many Happy Returns. I got one coming next Thurs (16th). Looks like great poets are born in June! Ha Ha. Have a great day. Best to you and yours. Ralph
Konos Avatar
June 9, 2011 at 5:51 AM
Cognac and Roses Thank you
Roberts Avatar
June 8, 2011 at 4:16 PM
that was fantastic Larry, just fantastic
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