Master Of Thrill And Terror

How dark and sinister this man used to be...
For in the arts, that's where he was free...

A friend of poe he must have been...
For poes words, jumped out of his skin...

Can you guess who he was?
I'll give you some clues....

For once there were many and then there were none...
Once there was a bat who held not a gun...
Many ghosts once lied in a chest...
Many died from a colorful death...

Once his voice lingers in your ear...
That mysterious voice is all you will hear...
He narrates the poems I read in my head....
With his voice my paper is fed....