. Edgar Allan Poe was known for strange and mysterious tales, in poetry and prose. Perhaps fittingly, the circumstances surrounding his premature death at the age of 40 were also strange and mysterious. (Read about the circumstances here and here.) Thus, with the help of poet Phil S. Rogers, the idea was conceived of a poem, factual and/or fictional, on the death of Poe in the meter of his renowned "Raven." The poet and editor, got as far as the below two stanzas, which are free for public use with the hope that someone will bring this concept to fruition, or add a stanza, and post it in the comments below. . On a sodden night so eerie, moonless, therefore dark and dreary, Mists athwart the ground roll shrouding, creeping, creeping ever low. Keeping always barely hidden, barely seen as if forbidden, Something mangled in the gutter, perhaps beset on by a foe, Noted dramatist and poet, christened Edgar Allan Poe, Not a tag yet on his toe. Endless laughter deep one night, a public house in golden light, Whisky flowed In Gunner's Hall, public tavern, polling place, Where the people came out for election day in Baltimore. Was the beastly whiskey drinking sinking him beyond God’s grace To a point beyond the health and joy that fills the human race? No hint came from his pale face. . .