Poe Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Poe

October; more or less
I will join Allan Poe.

Will be found unconscious
Unable to say word
Neither in cluster nor single.

Autopsied no one learns
The secret, the why, how
In silence, I will die.

As it is with oceans
Waves riding over waves
Scary the dead ones
Deep under and hidden
In silence of my chest
Buried are treasures.

I will take alongside
Allan Poe's unwritten
I will be tombstone
On top of treasures.

No one reads of my past
What I saw and observed
Include three wars
The revolts that I caused
No one knows this rebel,
The trips I have made
Mutinies, disobeyed.

I wave hand to friend:
"Wait Allan; on my way."