“The love of toes after a injury in the style of poe”

Upon a night of storm and woe,  
I pondered, desolate and low,  
A humble grief none else could know—  
The loss, the ache, the injured toe.

Once, it danced in midnight’s gleam,  
Caught pebbles in the summer stream,  
Wore rings of sunlight, gold and pure—  
Of all my body: sure.

But Fate—oh, cruel, remorseless Fate!  
In careless hour did devastate.  
A careless step—a misaligned blow—  
Brought agony to my cherished toe.

Weeks stretched long with throb and pain,  
I cowered from the softest rain,  
Each heartbeat hammering my woe,  
Each shiver cursing toe and foe.

In midnight’s hush—when candles die—  
A phantom pain and silent cry,  
Yet in the blackness, love did grow:  
Devotion for my wounded toe.

O, nevermore shall I despise  
The tiny digits at my thighs,  
For absence brings a lover’s art—  
Longing deep within the heart.

So harken well, ye shod and fleet!  
Regard your toes, both fair and sweet.  
In shadowed loss, true love we know—  
Forevermore, my precious toe.

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