In the stillness of a Baltimore night,
Where shadows dance in candlelight,
A soul departed, cloaked in mystery,
Edgar Allan Poe, a tale of misery.

The raven’s call, a somber tone,
Echoes through the night alone,
Whispering secrets from the grave,
Of a poet, dark and brave.

In the alleyways, where phantoms tread,
A life cut short, a legend spread,
Questions linger in the air,
Of Poe’s fate, beyond compare.

His words, immortal, haunt the mind,
His death, a riddle, left behind,
In shadows deep, his spirit roams,
Forever bound to haunted poems.