《厄舍府的倒塌》读后感——《厄舍府最后的诗人》2026.5.9写

Immaculate soul, I shall don a woman's skin,
To hear the thorny briars weep within;
Lure me back to the mansion deathward bound—
Where the dying house yet holds its ground.

Ravenous lust, I come to feast
On coffin's green and mildewed yeast;
To chew the rusted, gnawéd nail—
Wake me, that buried memory's tale.

Lady Madeline! Forgive that I
Have stolen thy purest, youthful desire's cry,
To drive the vermin from this rotting shell;
Pardon I borrowed thy naked hate as well,
To slay the misshapen things that dwell
Behind these grey and crumbling walls of hell.

Life renewed, I kiss our frames,
Where death his putrid signet claims;
Thy darkened eyes—my window fractured wide;
My weathered stones—thy flesh that droops and died.

Great collapse! I am the heart that stays—
The last survivor of Usher's fallen days;
Besieged Madeline, thou art the crime
That from the ruin's memory cannot climb.

The world sings praise of us with fire, with fright,
With tears, and in the withered, blighted site—
A lake that never drinks the sun nor dries,
Where even the crumbling house may recognize:
What dies not, though the stones and ashes rise.