The Tragic Period - Exhorder

Here’s a tale in history about a period of tragedy

A man who thought of horrid things but really sought what happiness brings

Terror instilled within the souls of men and women, young and old

Come and listen to me, my friend

He’ll make your morale descend

One Boston day, it’s sad to say, a newborn child was granted miserable life

Abandoned by his father and left alone by death of father’s wife

Foster child

Tobacco exporter gave him a chance

History defiled

Twisted by literature, dark and opium enhanced

Irregularity

So far ahead of his time

A spark of a breed regarding all of his literature creed

Infamy of tales and poetry

Connecting his themes to his wildest dreams

The maelstrom grew

No one knew he descended far beyond its spinning walls

Into the pit, the black abyss

His house was collapsing as he searched for Eldorado

Perched upon Pallas was life, hard and callous, the shadows of burden lifted

nevermore

The vulture eye of death concealed by wooden planks below the floor

The quest for solace evolved into sorrow

Lingering obsessions

Intoxication, stimulation, creation

Hindering addictions

Apparently the message in a bottle was lost, for I could see no conclusion

But all of us remaining in the shrouded past must remember to further ourselves

by obtrusion

Inebriated grin leads the mighty pen across the paper as his fears come alive

Satiric whim ignites the brim of insanity as Pluto arrives

Swaying cognac barriers, and the beating of his hideous heart increasing ever

so constantly

Conjuring the ne’er forgotten lore

'Tis only this and nothing more