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The Tragic Period (Exhorder)

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