Tribute to Mister Poe

   Laughs echoes down the hill
   yet, the valley lays asleep, still
   with no voices to be heard
   covered by a silent shred

   Under this moon, so pale
   whispers come from the dale
   with another ghostly tale

   Soon the night arises
   and trees casts their own disguises
   of misty shadows
   hiding all angels hallows