Deep Inside a demon hides who carved a smile on my face

The Man who became...

There once was a man who lived long ago. He was a writer, the father of the American short story. He wrote many things, of death, love, Impermanence and uncertainty, the subconscious self, nature, the human imagination, and of hope and despair. The time for which he lived is far from today's, a simpler time not really, but certainly didn't see the problems of today. He was seen as a bit mad with some of his works, quite cruel with others and a romantic with a few. He did many things in life, other then his writings, but they aren't mentioned much for he caused quite a few tempers to flare to be seen in that light. His works quite inspiring, to say the least, he is an icon to many, for me as well or I wouldn't be writing about his better half. He was a very talented man, but alas all things comes with a price. He turned mad, crazy a tad, but a bit far from a lunatic. His death untimely, a mystery still to this day. But I say he still is alive here and now, don't believe me? I'll show you how. He is in every poet and writer that's seen, he's that Raven with a suspicious gleam in its eye, that heart that won't stop beating, and the silence that lays over a  discovered truth. He is Edgar Allan Poe the man who became a legend.