Quoth The Raven

A poem influenced by and a tribute to, one Mr. Edgar Allen Poe.
"Quoth the Raven, Nevermore!"

How hauntingly these words adorn,
The dark, lonely winter nights,
So pitifully forlorn.

To sit in flickering candlelight,
And watch the doleful shadows dance,
Upon the walls and curtains drawn,
Mesmerized in wretched trance,
Lost in a world of heartache and pain.

Is it too late to regret?
What's done is done,
The past has passed,
Beyond the boundaries of neglect!

My abandon leaves an emptiness,
So evocative of reminisce,
To common familiarity,
With that which no longer exists.

Ah, but how her scent still lingers,
Like roses newly pruned,
To serve as a ghostly reminder,
Filling me with melancholy gloom,
In a twilight of obscurity,
So ignorant of my heart's desire.

I should dust away the memories,
Burn her fragrance on the pyre!

Alas, in my honorable servitude,
To she who caused so much distress,
The solemnity of ceremony,
Has not put my love to rest.

For still she lingers in the periphery,
Within the margin of each thought,
How I long to control my senses,
These perceptions to abort!

Yet, her evanescence plagues me still,
It will not dissipate,
Seems her vestige has determined,
Its invasion on my mental state.

Her visions infiltrate my dreams,
Whilst her whispers keep me awake,
Her sighs, through drafty windows come,
My quietude to agitate.

Is there no peace for those who mourn,
For that which they once adored?
And shall my heart not cease to break?

"Quoth the Raven, Nevermore!"
Published: 1/31/2015
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