The Haunted Palace by Edgar Allan Poe

In the green valleys
where angels reside
there stood a fairly
stately palace
radiant with pearls
and monarch’s of
thought’s dominion
so beautiful
this gorgeous
that even the angels
opined was
better than their
own cloud-homes.

With banners of yellow
and gold and a roof
of times-old
the gentle air
breezing by on that
sweetest of days
the ramparts letting
away the odors
of the day.

And as those wandered
through its happy valleys
through the windows
was seen the spirit
of music
the well-plate flute
and the lute
and around the throne
the king knew that
all was well.

His face glowing rubily
door opened to all
to come in and flow
and sparkle
sweet duty to sing
in voices of beauty
and wit and wisdom
to please their King.

But there too were evil
robbed in sorrow
which assailed the monarch’s
haunting his home
turning the rubiness
into a darker crimson hue
and the king stood
royally entombed.

Travelers, from within that valley
seeing through the red-tinted
windows those vast
forms which moved
so fantastically to and
to the somber melodes
of ghouls and ghosts
rivers of paleness
rushing out
but the King smiled
no longer.