The Grand Father Clock.
Howling through the midnight hour as clock strike past hour.
As the night before, the door flew open with shining crystal light with whisper noise.
Which is so soft that only trees outside can heard it call.
Whistling crest the air carrying it beyond the floor boards.
The humming is get loud as the faint sound of the ticking of hand on the Grandfather clock.
Subtle rattles of the pipes thought house is shaking it.
Suddenly the house collapse but the Grandfather clock is still stand.
Stand its ground thought the test of time.
My Son.
While I sitting here waiting for life end.
With ‘The Fall of the House of Usher’ just out gasp.
My hand is weakening with cold in my cripple joints.
The creaking for my bones is enough to call the grim reaper himself.
Wake up my son; your father is calling you.
The ‘Raven’ is at my window with his black feathers.
But my son must come.
My Father.
I am woken by voice that echoing.
Has that time come?
But yet it must have.
In the rocking chair he sits.
With Edgar Allen Poe on the floor.
Shall I acquaintance him with grotesque fairy tale.
That waits for him?
The Grotesque Fairy Tale.
The grotesque fairy-tale is my place.
Of fire and brim stone, my throne waits.
Just the existence of it, my father’s soul is tainted.
He wants be pure but yet he created me.
My skin is hot to the touch and redness then you can imagine.
My soul is pure white just like his.
He curls up with the Raven in the corner.
Try to convince Raven to take flight with him in the creature’s claws.
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