Within Hellish Abyss, Sounds Serpent's Hiss, Part Two

Within Hellish Abyss, Sounds Serpent's Hiss, Part Two As Poe'sque verses come demons surround, night hours break into loud hideous sounds. With claws and long fangs thirsting for warm blood, more beasts appear in a torrential flood. Yet nothing can stop pen and its dark ink, for deep in poetic dark, poet sinks. In distant pits of hell, flames rise and roar, as lost mortals seek to even old scores. Pen recharges onto paper that begs, as if it had marathon running legs For now master Poe's image had arrived, uttering these bold words, "I have survived"! More verses pour from his cracked and parched lips, on pain, death, heartbreak, ancient sunken ships. Sailors wailing as dark waters they drank, and into dooming depths bodies thus sank. Poe calls out warning, "my stay may be brief", poet cries, "faster pen, give me relief". "Obey this order, least my black mist leaves, express these scenes for master Poe so grieves". Demons moan, wanting black and darker still, as their wickedness begs more savage thrills. Magnificent master Poe again speaks, "waste not these hours, Raven's power soon peaks"! Robert J. Lindley, 9-21-2018 Dark rhyme, ( Dedicated to Master Poe) , Part Two