Shakespeare spoke of Juliet
While Poe of sweet Lenore
Shakespeare's tale of tragedy
Echoed on Annabelle's dark shore.

Why do these tales grip the heart
And squeeze so endlessly?
Why do we cry or weep tears of joy
About Lenore and Anna Lee?

Is it the sorrow or the beauty
Or perhaps twas both so true...
Is it the echo of their eyes
That look so deep in you?

Harken now the angels sing
Of Three Bright Ladies now entombed
Feel their laughter down the spine
Of Readers in the Rooms

Sweet Juliet with smile bright
Lenore with eyes of Seas...
Annabelle of darkest Faire
Their spirits in the breeze.

Though Heaven may seem made of such
Tis hell in truth I say...
For only hell would torment we
With beauties such as they.