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Demon eyes, rabbits and whiskey – 150 words in the style of Poe.

August 30, 2018

As I ponder where I should begin
Propped up by whiskey, or is it gin
I considered all the words that came before.

Inspired by darkness, dreaded, foul
Stories that called forth a howl,
A scream for mercy I would oft ignore.

I delighted in the midnight things,
Of demon eyes, the sound of wings,
Of monsters that would chill you to the core.

I brazenly fulfilled the need,
Nefarious thoughts that seemed to breed
Like rabbits, seemingly with no end in store.

Celebrated, I became
The whole world knew my lauded name
No equal could be found to match my lore.

And then one night the words weren’t there
My muse had gone, I know not where
I was cast adrift, upon a barren shore.

So when the devil came a-calling
You might think my choice appalling
That I should sell my soul, become a whore.

Quoth the raven….

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