exhorder
the tragic period
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 but no one knew  He descended far beyond its spinning walls  Into the pit, the black abyss  His house was collapsing as he searched for El Dorado   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