Edgar Allen Poe was a living tragedy. And his work - in all its brutal, incarnadine-motifed morbidity - reflected that fact. For every poem about a dead young lover or gravestone polished by a widower’s tears, there is a horrible justified sadness lurking just at the other end of the quill, cursing unjust fate. Poe’s life was a string of unfortunate events, which may have inspired some of his greatest gothic/romantic/anti-transcendental writings.