The Ballade Of Edgar Allan Poe Poem by bernadette meessen

Edgar Allan Poe was a dude whom I did know
And eighty-fourth street was his roe
Opium was his sacred blow
His short stories brought me chills
And made all others quite ill
Edgar Allan Poe
The pendulum swings so
That nasty vermin's hunger grows
Yes clang the bells will ring
First lightly like a ping
The atmosphere is indigo
Edgar Allan Poe
He lives beneath the snow
A penchant odor thrives
As ghostly spirits rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Guides the blistered toe
It walks against the wall
While tarantulas do crawl
Without a chance to fall
Kindling a bit of wood
While Brimstones start to glow
And soon hell's fires will burst
While Satan drools and thirsts
Edgar Allan Poe
Will have another smoke
And pictures wandering hopeless folk
And tapestries weave a line
While spiders weave my spine
and Edgar laughs and sips his wine.
Edgar Allan Poe was a dude whom I did know
And eighty-fourth street was his roe
Opium was his sacred blow
His genius remains
Hidden in his poetic strains
A morbid attitude
comes from his platitudes.
Where did he received his thoughts
From the devil he was bought.