Poe's Diary Page 7 (The Hand of Dread)

Awakened by the hand of dread
An apprentice to the night
She pulls me from my chamber bed
And forces me to write

My mind still captive to my sleep
I do not understand
Clutching my quill, my fingers weep
It does not know my hand

A whisper slowly fills my soul
My quill now feels at ease
For I'm no longer in control
I write from my disease

Infected words now fill my quill
To spread a rancid lie
My paper silent and feeling ill
As pieces of it die

Dread no longer holds me tight
As her icy fingers release
She disappears into the night
And hands me back my peace

Reviews

[LJW]

You have a natural talent for seemingly effortless unforced rhyme.

I believe rhyming poetry is the hardest to pull off without sounding trite or sing song.

That is why I rarely write it and hate 99% of what I read.

Your writing.....so far....I love.__

[Whiskurz]

Thanks again my friend......Whisk

[Jack...]

Now this is what I am talking about. So very cool Sir. I am a huge Poe fan and this has all the trappings of something from the dark masters hand. Very, very cool.

[Whiskurz]

Thanks Jack......Whisk