The Conqueror Worm by Edgar Allan Poe | animated poem reading

📖✨ In this video, you will discover the masterpiece of Edgar Allan Poe, The Conqueror Worm, read by Canadian poet Ken Jorgenson with animated illustrations that give an eerily modern tone to the poem.

The Conqueror Worm is a grotesque and malevolent entity in Edgar Allan Poe's poem, symbolizing the inevitability of death and decay. It emerges on stage during a celestial drama watched by sorrowful angels, devouring the spectral mimes in a display of ultimate destruction. The worm’s presence transforms the tragic play into a macabre scene, embodying the relentless and inescapable nature of mortality. Its triumph over the performers marks the poem’s grim conclusion, highlighting the transient and fragile nature of life.

🌟 #edgarallanpoe #theconquerorworm #kaiber #poem #DeVermisMysteriis

Show your appreciation to Ken Jorgenson for reading this poem by purchasing his poetry collection on Amazon.

https://www.amazon.com/At-Home-Maelstrom-Collection-Poems-ebook/dp/B08PW2MLQV/ref=sr_1_2?crid=8PRBH8VADTPP&keywords=Ken+Jorgenson&qid=1702769957&sprefix=ken+jorgenson%2Caps%2C490&sr=8-2

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Text of the poem


Lo! ’t is a gala night
Within the lonesome latter years!
An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
In veils, and drowned in tears,
Sit in a theatre, to see
A play of hopes and fears,
While the orchestra breathes fitfully
The music of the spheres.

Mimes, in the form of God on high,
Mutter and mumble low,
And hither and thither fly—
Mere puppets they, who come and go
At bidding of vast formless things
That shift the scenery to and fro,
Flapping from out their Condor wings
Invisible Wo!

That motley drama—oh, be sure
It shall not be forgot!
With its Phantom chased for evermore
By a crowd that seize it not,
Through a circle that ever returneth in
To the self-same spot,
And much of Madness, and more of Sin,
And Horror the soul of the plot.

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.