A borrowed raven, my very own.

No longer I fear your shadow,
looming near,
though your name is not Lenore.

Nor it bothers my reflection in the mirror,
or,
indeed my lonely pillow, as I learnt to utter
NEVERMORE!!

I regained brothers, sisters,
shed some light upon my soul.
And perched above the bust of Pallas,
darkening my chamber door,
I see your shadow,
nevermore.

There are ashes, from the embers
of fires, long long ago.
In the mirror, head held high,
in the watches of the night,
I found peace, as I mutter
"nevermore".

"And the raven, never flitting,
still is sitting, still is sitting.
On the pallid bust of Pallas
just above my chamber door."

And each time the fiend
opens its ghastly beak,
seeking to shriek, I can feel the urge,
causing me to purge,
as I scream right back:
"Enough of that, NEVERMORE!!"

16/05/2013.


Note from the author:

This piece is a tribute to Edgar Poe. I got caught in his cadence and tones of light (or lack thereof).

Section of Poe's "The Raven" included. I marked it in bold and italics, as it is not my brainchild, but a source of inspiration.