I played with an Edgar Allan Poe-themed set of magnets. Please enjoy the resulting poem.
Midnight whispers in my ear― His lonely moon a tell-tale cask of dread. Thus, full of fear and truth, I walk this night. Half clouded in dusk Half shrouded in dawn His darkness powers through my coldest heart. Midnight whispers in my ear a storm of melancholy spite. He pins me prone with all his fuzzy stars― Dripping every word into my pores. I shiver at each moonbeam on my mouth. My lips a luscious, luxurious doubt. His own mere stuffy, pretentious clout. Midnight claims I'll ne'er forget his kiss. I must confess, my dears, I already have. Besides, it's not his kiss that called me, but his wit. However, one point in my favor, Midnight never learned to write. So it seems the only wit you'll remember, dears, is mine.
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