Inspired by much. Everything in life is inspiring just as death itself is also inspiring.

Edgar Allen Poe is known by many readers and writers. His life was inspirational as was his death.

The following is one of his works that i will ‘change’ to fit my tastes…

***

Alone

 

by Edgar Allan Poe
(published 1875)

  

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were — I have not seen
As others saw — I could not bring
My passions from a common spring —
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow — I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone —
And all I lov’d — I lov’d alone —
Then — in my childhood — in the dawn
Of a most stormy life — was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still —
From the torrent, or the fountain —
From the red cliff of the mountain —
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold —
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by —
From the thunder, and the storm —
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view —

 

***

Alive

By: Robin B Lipinski

(never to be published or read by those just can’t seem to understand)

Foul touch of simmered breath

Assail birth’s bed — I have spared

Asked and given — forged flamed, his eyes filled dread

Seed given with plantations of slit — furrowed and tilled their smiles

Pregnant idea’s his beamed — not mine, nor hers, nor his lies…

Monsters realm of real, hidden beneath bed and home — I found courage of time

Winds carry the secrets so obvious, so filled, so it is… fine

This dust, these ashes — bones barren to still the soul\

With ease of maintained determination and will — destined lineage removed from clay

Spittle flying from and to such feeble soup — barren potatoes, moldy bread sopping vinegar wine

Risen, flying high above clouds and grave — slaying demons laugh

it is

i

so very, very, very much

alive.