Here's my poem about the Cask of Amontillado! Basically, it's from Fortunato's perspective as he sits inside his just-been-built tomb. He begins to realize how harsh and cruel Montresor is, and he imagines the demise of Montresor.
P.S. I added the "page breakers", if you will, to separate the stanzas. Not trying to confuse anyone, I just wanted to get that poem-like effect.
Oh, how lonely is the dark!
The Shadowed walls at night.
Where evil things silently stir,
without the hint of light.
How cold is the coldest man,
to leave a friend to die?
I thought I knew him! I thought he cared!
It appears I've believed his lie.
Inside this concrete tomb,
the temperature drastically falls.
I pull my legs up to my skin,
his name I think I call.
Fear has racked my body,
my thoughts become more wild.
My hate begins to grow,
for that man and his wicked vile!
How lowly is the lowliest man,
to kill without a thought?
How could he do such an act,
and feel nothing close to wrought?
My anger turns to seething,
fear turns all too soon to naught,
as I grind my teeth together,
his image in my brain been caught.
Perhaps he did feel tortured,
for bringing about my demise.
Perhaps he was indeed pained,
for all of his dreadful lies.
Perhaps now he sits in his bed,
cold sweat covering him like a dew.
Slowly would he open his mouth,
and simply whisper, "Who?"
"Who am I to end a man's life?
To take that gift so great...
Who am I to think
that I was Master of his fate?"
In my thought, my mouth curves upward,
as I imagine him in pain.
In my head, a crack opens beneath his feet
And to his leg attaches a chain.
He'd cry in pain and protest,
as the devil pulled him down.
Down farther, farther, farther still,
into that fiery realm.
He'd plead for forgiveness,
his apology he would yell.
But down he'd go, down he'd fall
and I would welcome him to Hell.