Friday, December 31, 2010


Inspired by my Poe-ish mood, here's a piece I wrote back in 11th grade studying American literature.

What do you get when you assign students to write a poem about death immediately following a unit dedicated to Poe? You get this. Thanatopsis was boring anyway.

Miles Veritatis

‘Twas hour doom of wintry night
In castle dungeon deep
Locked away in fest’ring cell
Did lonely pris’ner sleep

When with a start, his eyes sprung wide
At startling, frightful sound
The shrillest wail pierced through his heart
Made loose his terror bound

Trembling, he turned his head
To cell’s gate standing wide
And in the gap, a figure stood
Om’nous in dim, flick’ring light

The dark man cloaked in cape and hood
Slipt silently through the door
Reaching out cold hands of death
To pris’ner on the floor

Slowly turning key in lock
The pris’ner’s chains fell free
Yet no more for freedom did he long
But for sweet captivity

With grip of stone, the figure seized
This quaking pris’ner’s wrist
Then pulled him to his feet and led
Out from his safe abyss

This demon nigh would be his end
Our pris’ner did know well
He’d hang his body by its neck
And drag his soul to Hell

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