ODE TO EDGAR ALLAN POE

The tall, ruined tower, by the sea of sable wine,
Where silver stars alight, in the moonless night,
Is the seat of a raven which rarely takes flight;
Its dark eyes look down on the scorpions of the brine.

With each chilling breeze that poison billows carry
From dusky, northern currents of the half-swallowed pier,
Heard in the dreadful hall, where heads and horror marry,
Are whispers of the dead beneath a swinging chandelier.

A skeletal sister clutches for a face
In the blackness of the castle's most deserted place,
Wrought by the hand of madness, not ended.

In the screaming, wild wind, from splintered coffins wail the damned;
The raven wraps his talon around the weird sister's hand.
All this is Poe- his hells have all ascended!

John Lars Zwerenz

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-to-edgar-allan-poe/