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Edgar Allan Poe
A dark and damp office,
littered with fading memories
transcribed into saddened
stanzas. Lit by nothing
but a dying
candle.
Fresh, raven hued ink
meets stiff, fresh parchment
spelling out drunken
pains and spurs of
insanities.
Shattered liquor bottles-
aching to slice
open the man’s ivory palm-
Match a shattered
heart;
Eternally lost near the sea,
with his decomposing true
love,
Annabel Lee.
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