" But see, amid the mimic rout
A crawling shape intrude!
A blood-red thing that writhes from out
The scenic solitude!
It writhes!- it writhes!- with mortal pangs
The mimes become its food,
And seraphs sob at vermin fangs
In human gore imbued.
Out- out are the lights- out all!
And, over each quivering form,
The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm,
While the angels, all pallid and wan,
Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy, "Man,"
And its hero the Conqueror Worm. "
― Edgar Allan Poe
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![Edgar Allan Poe quote : But see, amid the mimic rout<br />A crawling shape intrude!<br />A blood-red thing that writhes from out<br />The scenic solitude!<br />It writhes!- it writhes!- with mortal pangs<br />The mimes become its food,<br />And seraphs sob at vermin fangs<br />In human gore imbued.<br /><br />Out- out are the lights- out all!<br />And, over each quivering form,<br />The curtain, a funeral pall,<br />Comes down with the rush of a storm,<br />While the angels, all pallid and wan,<br />Uprising, unveiling, affirm<br />That the play is the tragedy,](/image/1617578.jpg)
And its hero the Conqueror Worm." style="width:100%;margin:20px 0;"/>