My Raven

Once upon a frightening night, I sat troubled, at my own delight
Over the writhing of my mysterious dissention, my simple life
I lazily drifted off through the sandman’s dust, whence came a shallow tapping
No more than a gentle rapping, rapping at my cottage door
“A traveler to happen upon me,” I whimsically mumbled, tapping at my cottage door
Only the sound, not another thought.

Freely reviewing my mind, I know of it to be a cold December morn,
And every last desperate fire tossed its soul upon the ground
Anxiously I begged for a latter day- in vain I knew of which to blame
From his books of time, ancient scrolls of his lost Lenore
A gem of rare beauty, a bride of only the angels and time
Without a name to claim, for eternity.

As I pulled the curtain to the side to peer amidst the leaves
I am confounded to not find a visitor, but only the wind rushing by
My fear causing a rapid heartbeat, to be heard only through my veins
“Where are you visitor of my blackened morning
My early stranger excusing themselves to my cottage door
It is you again and not another thought to it!”

All at once my character arched and billowed out strength, I ran to my door,
“Gent,” I said, “or is it Lady, I desperately need to know of your needs;
You see I was caught in a lazy slumber of my hearts desire
When so distinctly you began a tapping, yet but just a hair whispered
I suppose I only heard you in a naked thought”- the door flung open to see
Blackened morning, nothing else.

Through a tunnel of darkness, I’m eerily feeling aloud, lost in fear
Pessimistic, nightmarish dreams no mortiferous man should ever dream
With silence irrepressible, the mood inaccessible,
Whispering of lost love, ancient, abiding but lost
As I whispered this plea, “My Love”, hearing an echo “My Lenore!”-
But only this, and silence remained.

Following my feet back to my cottage hearth, my very soul on fire
I again was disturbed by an even louder tapping
With relief bestowed upon me I rushed to the window box
Once again peering to my blackened morning I set forth the riddle
To my heart be still and listen intently, upon my knees I ask,
Only the power of rushes in the wind

I then opened my window once more, brushing needles off the sill
With a statuesque gaze peering into my soul, perched a bird of midnights aura
A raven, a timeless figure, with burning eyes of brazen tinder
He stood firm without fear, waiting on my gullet to quicken
Perched upon a robust oak, a limb withered with time
Perched, but told of no sound

This midnight bird of fancy, laughed at my sad folly
He sat demonstratively staring my heart goodnight, poking humor at my wrath
“May you have a crest preened and a robust thirst!”
A shameful reminder of an ancient traveler’s trek
“Tell me of your flight, your fancy, your virtue”
Shrieks the Raven, “Nevermore”

This disturbing fowl, upends my shelter, taking away my love so true
No reason- no thought provoking storm, alas I see desperation
We cannot help but know, the plight of a human in revelation
Only to be adorned with a sardonic bird of prey
Beckoning to a ground swell, that sits in respite at my door
And only speaks the word “Nevermore!”

The raven, sitting on my limb alone with his solitude
A soul to be measured, sits with his sardonic wit, claiming my heart!
Not a sound again tethered, once more for my weathered existence
Till I only muttered, “my encountered souls have long since taken flight”
Only in this tomorrow, leave my side and let me die!”
The accused soul, leave me now!

Surprised at the solace torn apart by a reply so aptly driven
“Confused,” I say, “it’s countenance is simply irrepressible
Desperately lost in a broken dissent from a master of disaster
Only watched within a lonely spirit, his song so virile
To only see but a lonesome splendor, of which a kinship
Of the only thought kinship with a phrase of loss, ‘Never- Nevermore’.”

But the ebony bird shines his wings in the break of day,
I sat quietly for more of the same, a longing to see you at your perch
Then with a cast overwhelming touch, I brought myself to thinking
Pleasure among the pleasures, knowing this bird of prey, and his results
Not a sigh to be missed, with fortitude to steal the night
At his dying bed, he bids again “Nevermore”

Of whence I sit with thoughts pouring thereafter
To the bird, who’s glance makes a mortal man suffer
More oft to sit wondering, my mind beckoning a suffering heed!
Within the pillow of my conquest, I only wish to see her once again!
But still is my wanting, my choleric heart dispose of
With this I press to my bird of darkness only hearing “Nevermore”

I once again am puzzled, alone without my Lenore
Pulled partly in jest, upon the floor I lapse
“Wretched one,” I parry, “Has not your God sent you to me!”
Taking rest in my one true love, that of my darling “Lenore!”
“Death seeker,” I speak this, “why should you tear my heart from within?”
Speaks my Raven once more, “Nevermore”

“Ambassador of death!” I yield to thee, “you are but a tool of Satan’s hand!”
“Please leave me now, I cannot take again into this day your brood, your glance!”
Alone, without repose, I scream, “take your stare and go about your blessed curse!”
Before you go let be a lesson learned, one of significance with a heart missing
Without your message, be gone please, let me live in my lonely hovel
My Raven once again exclaiming, “Nevermore!”

O’ wise one who’s brought me to my knees
Go to God now, allow me my petty distraught being
Leave my soul to be buried, for the loss of my sweet Lenore
She never hurt one who loved her so, my oh my, my sweet Lenore
My lover and friend, my divine, my tender heart, my sweet Lenore!
Spoken again in refrain, “Nevermore!”

“A tumultuous stance, who are you bird of Satan!”
“Go ahead of me a see if the Gods find solace in thee”
Take your torment, leave it with one who knows
Go away and know you are not welcome
“Remove your beak from my heart, and leave my cottage at once!”
Again sitting stalworth, speaking in only a whisper, “Nevermore!”

And my dear Raven, always my tormentor, still perched on the oak
On my doorstep, and into my very soul, sitting with darkness;
Eyes piercing my heart, without concern
My only light left illuminating your scowl
My very soul, set to be thrown to the ground
Shall be lifted- Nevermore!






© 2006 T. Scott