The Tamerlane Exegesis by Brendan Lee Sprague True -- Very Nervous -- I felt -- And still am -- as I pen these words to the beginning of a story I already knew. I was very high, actually. My holy grail was linked, from home, by a spell I cast at the hospital, to me. On opium tea, strong drugs, and mountain dew, and as the klonopin and oxycodone herbally-infused drug kicked in, I sat in the private hospital room, and opened a connection to Poe, while he was in his youth. He had just slept with Elmira, and I instructed him to go downstairs and write something. Take advantage of your father's things, and use of all of his materials to write a lengthy poem about a warrior of some kind .. We exchanged lines back and forth, and wrote the poem together, slowly. I spent about 1 to 2 hours writing it with him. My version is more simple, while his is more detailed. After he wrote it, he wandered off into the hills of the morning, and stared at the fog. I remember how it was like we both parted in separate directions. The truth is, though, I am still writing Eureka. My version of Tamerlane can be found here: https://systemz.neocities.org/Tamerlane.txt BLS