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Love....is a bitter thing.

All laced in ribbons.

Adorned in binding string.



A choking sensation.

The jealous thought that grows uneasily.

Held captive by your own frustration.



Love......is a hateful thing.

Beautifully written words.

A lie enveloped by a kiss.

This is not bliss........I hate this......



Love......is a killer.

Cunning and seductive.

A burning vision.

An artistic mission.

A masterpiece.....

Your blood splattered on a canvas.

Dripping on your face.



The love is dead.

You've conquered the terrorist

The dominator

The lovely seducer

The murderer and

The mad artist....?????



Was it them or you? That you didn't trust?

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.









"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun

The frumious Bandersnatch!"





He took his vorpal sword in hand:

Long time the manxome foe he sought --

So rested he by the Tumtum tree,

And stood awhile in thought.





And, as in uffish thought he stood,

The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,

And burbled as it came!





One, two! One, two! And through and through

The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

He left it dead, and with its head

He went galumphing back.





"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?

Come to my arms, my beamish boy!

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'

He chortled in his joy.









`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,

And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;



And frogs in the pools singing at night,

And wild plum trees in tremulous white;



Robins will wear their feathery fire,

Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;



And not one will know of the war, not one

Will care at last when it is done.



Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,

If mankind perished utterly;



And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn

Would scarcely know that we were gone.

It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden lived whom you may know

By the name of ANNABEL LEE; -

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.



_I_ was a child and _She_ was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love -

I and my ANNABEL LEE -

With a love that the wing餠seraphs of Heaven

Coveted her and me.



And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud by night

Chilling my ANNABEL LEE;

So that her high-born kinsmen came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up, in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.



The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

Went envying her and me;

Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud, chilling

And killing my ANNABEL LEE.



But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we -

Of many far wiser than we -

And neither the angels in Heaven above

Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE: -



For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;

And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes

Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride

In her sepulchre there by the sea -

In her tomb by the side of the sea.



1849.



_________

-THE END-

Edgar Allan Poe's poem: Annabel Lee

From the collection of Poems of Later Life

I have no age, but great wisdom have I obtained.

I am bitter, but I welcome a warm embrace.

I am hungry, but my soul starves, and my belly is full of delicous crimson.

I am deaf, but I can speak and listen.

I am blind, but everything looks so vibrant and bold.

I am queen of eternity as the night slowly unfolds.

I am hated because I am innocent to love.

I am pure because I can see falseness in light and honesty in dark.

I am loved for my excruciating beauty and oddly entertaining elegance.

I am feared because I am in tune with raw emotion.

I am embraced because I serve myself and others with dignity, respect, and grace.

The rose bends down and takes in the sustainance.

The thorns embed themselves so close to my heart.

Filling my soul with immortal poison.

Giving me life.

Planting me among the garden of an awakened and aware eternity.

Where I will live and flourish among the beautiful rose and his courtiers.