Reconciled In Sorrow

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I walk and see the objects around me,
The carving of the ceilings, the sombre tapestries that hung.
The oaken floors, armorial trophies,
All familiar, yet ghastly and sick.
I pass the family physician,
His countenance of cunning and perplexion,
Accosted me with trepidation,
Now ushered me into the presence of his master.
Large and lofty was the room in which I stood.
The windows narrow, long, and pointed towards the sun.
Feeble gleams of crimson light made their way down.
My eyes struggled to reach the darker corners of the room.
Profuse and antique, torn and tattered furnishment.
I felt as if I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow.
Many books and musical instruments lay scattered about,
But they failed to give the scene any life.
Then, he arose from lying on a sofa at length,
Greeting me with a vivacious warmth.
Never before had a man been so altered
In such a brief time as had Roderick Usher!
An incoherence, an inconsistency,
Futile struggles in habitual trepidancy.
When the animal spirits claw at him,
Energetic and indecisive.
Then all at once, abrupt and low,
The unhurried and hollow utterance
Of the lost drunkard, or the
Irreclaimable eater of opium
During his most intense excitement.
"A long-continued, pestilent family evil,
Despair to find a remedy for my condition.
I must perish in this deplorable folly.
I dread the events of the future.
I must abandon reason altogether in some struggle with the grim phantasm...
...Fear."

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