My Blessed Alexandria

I have awaited for seven long months,
Not to travel to the busy Bronx,
To not ascend beyond the sky,
Which is the day that I shall soon die,
I have awaited long for thee,
Who blossoms with love and such glee,
Making love to me; to the sounds of the sea,
And lo, shalt thou become my final Annabel Lee.
Amidst these branches sprout the ferns of newer life,
How marvelous your rebirth once you recover thine strife,
This you have endur'd, my love, my queen,
Will end as you awaken from thine dream,
The lies, the nonsense, and pointless folly,
Shall diminish with the death of melancholy.
Once upon this long midnight dreary,
With you, under the sheets which we lay,
I ask you this, "Why must you feel so weary?"
"Because I must go home, for tomorrow is my final day."
As you slowly drift to sleep, within my arms,
To the melody of the sea,
I glance at the stars,
Wondering why, Alexandria, must you send your love onto me?
This luminous fire you have set upon my black heart,
Burns as I desire,
Tis my melodic words of art,
Which prevents me from being consumed,
By the love which is this beautiful fire.
From the Tennessee leaves of mid-October,
I pray that I will remain sober,
To the crystalline waters of Savannah's Atlantic sea,
I say this Alexandria, because this love for you may drunken me,
I look at you with such envy and such glee,
And I ask you; "Alexandria, will you be therefor me?"