But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only that one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour
'Lenore, Lenore, exists nevermore. Nevermore Lenore.' I snicker as I polish the glass case with my first love's box in it. I am quite the genius to have come up with this. Ping
Nothing further then he uttered, not a feather then he fluttered
I drop my pen on the cool flooring, my joy causing my hands to shake. I must wake up my new prize, admire the fine art of the smooth wax against her porcelain skin. I would love to hear what words she was soon to utter. Sigh
Till I scarcely more than muttered 'Other friends have flown before'
It has been mere moments and I already miss Lenore. She was with me for 20 years, after all. And now she is gone, forever. Sniffle
'On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
I must get some rest, I will get my love up and running tomorrow morning. She will be eager to swim around the lake, I am sure. Yawn
Then the bird said, 'Nevermore.'
This tired feeling may well kill me if I stay awake a moment longer.
I must not dally. 'Good night, my victory.' Was my last hushed whisper before my head hit the worn pillow on my laboratory bed. Snore
YOU ARE READING
Midnight at The Lake
HorrorMy entry for the Under The Sea writing contest. The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe is incorporated in this work, I do not claim to own the poem. Other than that, the work is my own.
