Edgar Allen Poe was many things to many people. A Poet extraordinaire, A Writer of Fiction, the world's first Mystery Writer, but to me he was inspiration itself. It was upon a chance encounter with one of his stories, The Gold Bug, at a very young age that I realized that something could be done with all the imaginary events that occurred in my mind everyday. That, in fact, they had value beyond my own personal amusement. I have read everything he ever wrote that I could find, I have been to his barrack at West Point, His House and Museum, and his Grave. In the end I honored him in a way that I hope he would have appreciated most of all. I wrote a poem in his honor.
Thy Beacon Moral
Cast aside thy Shameless Sorrow
Share your Wit
Like timeless Pharaoh
The Pit, The Pendulum, and the Sparrow
Subdue a passionless poisoned lot
Left void within thy Celestial Plot
As Pity cries out "Born Again!"
Rephrase thy Wisdom, Refrain thy Sin
Then Don your Feathered Windless Cloak
Thy Dagger pointed beyond reproach
And call this Satin Saint Lenore
And claim her beauty Evermore
And in your Churches Man your Steeples
To Warn the senseless passerby
Noose the Ropes and Hang the People
Who Fail to Heed the Battle Cry
The Cadence on the street is Beating
The Rhythm Rising, Falling, Pleading
The Tell Tale Heart is Freely Bleeding
And their like Vengeance lies the Word
The Bells Sounding out the Score
Pronounce the Judgement " Nevermore "