Poem -

Edgar's Raven

Happiness has left my abode...stolen!

Nevermore shall it flow within my veins!

For here she lies, a pale picture personified...

Nevermore to warm my heart with her songs.

What joy she wrought with a voice of an angel,

Nevermore upon my ears does resonate!

For in an instant of treacherous cruelty,

The raven upon my constitution does rest.

Deepest dark despair does drown my brow,

Nevermore a pleasant thought does brew.

Alas adieu I do bid my paramour

With heart bereft, torn in twain,

With begrudging surrender to deaths door,

Deliver all hope of revival.

Nevermore shall false pretense of felicity

Lead my mind down trodden paths of delirium.

Stare upon your stately rest no more can I, 

Your repose of finality upon me weighs,

A burden to heavy to bear upon my ragged constitution.

Adieu my love, adieu! My sorrow shall drown this harrowed night!

My sweetheart! What unforseen bliss befalls my fate?

Upon thy cheeks a rosy red does banish pale grey!

Nevermore I pledged to see thee revived upon this world,

All succour I believed to be within a bottle...

How wrong indeed was I!

Hope, joyous hope returned to my bosom!

The lesion upon my being rendered healed!

Oh sweet, sweet euphoria upon my soul,

How dare I have doubted the perilous hour of trail?

Weak, weak man I do kneel before your bed,

With tears of shame I abase myself.

My pertinacity shall henceforth grow 

As I cast deaths foreboding from my mind!

What cruel world we do beset!

Fortnight upon fortnight you rise and fall,

A moments bliss for a moments woe!

The strings of my sanity have been cut!

The beast roars free running a muck with my faculty!

Woe, sweet misery, that takes without a care,

Leaving desolation as my new companion!

Nevermore shall love burn my heart nor heat my brow!

Nevermore shall echo thy voice through crowded halls

Bringing pleasure and pride upon my being.

Nevermore, nevermore...nevermore.

Forever cold shall be the recesses of my soul,

My light, my life stripped to soon from mortal realm.

Burdened consumption to heat my passion to live,

Slays not the dragon of bereavement cast upon my shade.

Six feet of earthen sheet, separate my yearning state,

Nevermore this earth with me to wander,

But in nightmares born of loss in darkness dwells,

With rancour drops of killing spirit upon my lips,

Consume my death in eager gulps of lucid quiescent.

To drown within a sea of spirits, to forget peaceful past,

Rage within a glass buttressed by fragile mortality.

Nevermore my love to hold...

Nevermore her voice to please mine ears...

Nevermore to see the sun shine from in her eyes...

Nevermore unending oscillation of hope...of loss...

Nevermore shall loves power hold sway upon this breast! 

Fly black raven from my door, begone!

Nevermore your caw I wish to hear...nevermore...

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Comments

author
Twisted Angel

love the title..LOVED the poem...goes on a bit lol but we'll worth the read, beautifully written wrapped in some great word choices 

:)

Reply
author
Phillip Arthur ...

Schweet, long because I felt it would portray his suffering and then his joy at her recovering, just to be robbed cruelly. To actually believe this is what happened to poor old Edgar Poe. Glad you liked it, even though it does test the patience in its length.

:)

Reply
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