Ode to Annabel Lee

The Thespain

Night descends its dying light upon her tomb set high upon a cliff beneath a weeping willow tree. Raging waves beat against turbulent shores reflecting a conflicted soul. The gentleman before my sight... how strangely familiar he seems to me. Yet who could he be?! He speaks to me:

"I am he who waltzes within a dream's suppression;

Illustrated by the heavens confession;

And sent by Hell's aggression,

Sent to obtain your obsession.

Your darling sweet glee,

Your Annabel lee."

Wearily I stagger away backwards as he jeers at my frail attempts to comprehend his words. I scream:

"oh sweet frail sanity!

Doth sways with altering skies canopy!

Lucidity descends with the night,

As all hope takes flight.

I bid thee adieu!

For I shan't be needing you;

In this kingdom of fools"

The foul willow grove trembles before the hallowing wind. With a fear gripped heart I turn and flee, the Heavens birth holy tears from blasphemous skies. The Thespian stalks his prey with ease. Like a shadow, he appears wherever my eyes seek shelter. The dark forest surrounds me in ever watchful eyes whispering softly: A pitiful lullaby taunting my soul. Paranoia conjures visons of my sleeping lover, my Annabel Lee:

"I dream of silhouettes...

Dancing along to bleeding cassettes,

They shatter my heart absolute,

And wake the dead- once mute.

I dream of wicked silhouettes...

Grotesque seductress abets,

Vanquishes comprehension in ease.

Coy lips beckons, smiles amid the trees.

I dream a dream of somber silhouettes,

Lifeless doe eyes besets.

Moonlight beams provoking streams:

Life... candy floss sweet scenes

I reminisce your stolen kiss

And morn the loss of our shared bliss"

"Annabel!" I cry out to her, "forgive me of my sins, I know not who is the theft who put you to rest. Return to me, my bride. Return to my side and once more become mine!" the sketch artist begs. The Thespian stalks and approaches Annabel's somber figure. I watch in trepidation as she joins him in a waltz amidst the weeping willow grove. My heart palpitates and threatens to burst forward from benight my breast as panic seeps into my core. My heartbeat seems to echo loudly over the screeching wind and laughing woods. Paralyzed by my fear, futile screams in mortification are released as I watch the pair. The thespian leans into his partner to bestow a gentle kiss upon cadaver lips. He cradles her face within his palms, hands share the sacramental embrace. A castle of decay, once where Annabel lay...

A forgotten memory now delays.

I linger but a bit more,

Caught within their allure.

Dark candy floss filled skies

bleed crystal tears from blasphemous cries.

Sweet pandemonium taunts,

As my lover and demons haunts.

The thespian in disguise;

A charmer of minds, he advice:

"I shall be your demise."

Frail elegance masks the wolfs grin.

His words seep fear benight my skin:

"sweet, sweet, little dreamer- dream...

Put all of your hatred into me.

Can you not hear them scream?

Condescending moonlight beam

to guide a pathway just for thee!

Sweet, sweet, little dreamer- dream...

From blasphemous angel eyes stream

an asylum of raging sea.

Can you not hear them scream?

Diamond filled skies gleam,

Last night I saw the devil in glee.

Sweet, sweet, little dreamer- dream...

Beware! You fell into a scheme!

He was dancing benight a willow tree!

Sweet, sweet, little dreamer- dream.

Can you not hear them scream?"

I turn my heels to soar with the biting wind. Chilling rain jeers at my frail attempts

to flee. Diamond tears bleed from dark candy floss filled skies, slicing flesh with bitterly cold daggers. The gibing evergreen hums an apathic melody. I find some solace located in an old wooden tavern nested on the outskirts of the small village. Sweaty, wet palms struggle to unbolt the door. Upon entering, my ears are greeted by the song of laughter indulgent. Ivory piano keys

frolic a drunken tune. I approach a barstool and observe the scene play before my eyes in unabashed rage.