And this is a poem for him.
It's just a chiseling away of Poe's, "The Raven"
because apparently in his ancestrage,
there's a deep dark secret that apparently one of his ancestors
was Edgar Allan Poe.
So hopefully that's true.
"Rare and Radiant Syllable."
"Quoth the raver, evermore.
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
'T' is some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
My heart be still.
'T' is the wind.
This and more I sat divining on the cushion's velvet lining.
But those velvet violet lining with guessing fiery eyes
rose from my books.
Surcease of sorrow rose, rose, rose,
so that now thrilled me of his hope upon the velvet rope.
My soul grew stronger engaged in hesitating then no longer,
and each purpled curtain lifted."