Poetry Continuation Feb 13, 02:36 PM

Annabel Lee: The Tides Beyond

Creative Poetry Continuation

This is an artistic fantasy inspired by the poem «Annabel Lee» by Edgar Allan Poe. How might the verse have sounded if the poet had continued their thought?

Original excerpt

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

— Edgar Allan Poe, «Annabel Lee»

Continuation

Annabel Lee: The Tides Beyond
(A continuation, after Edgar Allan Poe)

— Original ends: —
"And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea."

— The continuation: —

And so, when the stars rose over the sea,
I heard her voice on the salted air—
My beautiful Annabel Lee—
A whisper that wound through my tangled hair,
A sorrow too vast to bear.

The angels had taken her, cold and keen,
But never could sever the silvered thread
That bound me still to my radiant queen,
That tethered the living unto the dead,
In a kingdom beyond the seen.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the garden where once she would wait—
Where the roses bloomed crimson in silent screams
And the fountain kept vigil by fate—
And I see her there, pale in the gaslight's gleams,
At the edge of the iron gate.

And the wind—ah, the wind!—it remembers her name,
It carries her laughter like rain,
And the ocean repeats it, a thundering claim
That rolls through each trembling pane—
Annabel, Annabel, burning flame,
That I shall not speak in vain.

I have walked by the shore where the breakers moan,
Where the kelp twists in funeral bands,
And I swear by the heavens I am not alone—
For I feel the press of her hands,
Cold as marble, yet gentle as tone
Of a harp played on desolate strands.

The seraphs above may begrudge me still,
Those demons of envious wing,
But neither their malice, nor heaven's chill will
Can silence the song that I sing—
For love is a force beyond death's darkest skill,
An imperishable, glorious thing.

And I know, when at last the black tides shall rise
And the stars burn their funeral white,
I shall follow her voice through the thundering skies,
Through the corridors measureless, bright—
And gaze once again in her luminous eyes,
My Annabel, bride of the night.

So I wait by the tomb where the sea-grasses sway,
Where the salt and the sorrow entwine,
For the hour, the moment, the glimmering day
When her kingdom shall merge into mine—
And together we'll drift on the tides far away,
Past the last of the mortal design—
In a love that no angel can slay,
In a bond that is deathless, divine—
With my darling, my darling, for whom I shall pray,
My Annabel Lee—ever mine.

1x

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