Edgar Allan Poe Poem by Paul Abucean

Edgar Allan Poe



My days are quiet. But at night i hear
With tapping raindrops, heavy sobs and sighs.
So late, so late! Each moment draws me near.
And lightning after lightning bares your eyes.

Poe, is it people, destiny, or God
That sends forth saviors much too good to save?
Those who imagined went below the sod.
Another dream, another dreamer's grave.

An orphan all alone devising styles,
You had no home but Love, no friend but Verse.
Yet in a world which lives by sword and wiles
Your finest gift would reap your final curse.

Still, at the end of darkest nevermore,
I see The Light - and it's upon your shore.

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