This is a "found poem" made up of quotes from The Scarlet Letter. It was done as a group assignment for an English class.

Composed by A.K., J.R., E.S., L.N., and me.

“Breathing the Soul”

These black weeds have sprung up out of a buried heart.

In the remote dimness of the chamber

Through the dismal medium of his ugliest remembrances,

The dead friends of his youth wrote their names with their own blood.

Where was his mind?

Visions seemed to flit before him.

Haunted by strange phantoms of guilt –

A herd of diabolic shapes that grinned and mocked –

Night after night in utter darkness.

It is his torture.

Years after, he haunts the forest,

His secret undisclosed,

An ill-fated wanderer in the wood’s heart of mystery.

The gray trunks of the solemn trees embody the brightness now,

Whispering tales out of the heart of the old forest.

Some men bury their secrets;

A new grave is delved, near an old and sunken one.

See his emaciated figure, his thin cheek –

His dark complexion seems to have grown duskier, and his figure more misshapen.

Will he not suddenly sink into the earth?