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    dots Submission Name: The Harbringerdots

    Author: Skinwalker
    Elite Ratio:    2.62 - 36/57/28
    Words: 666
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 1000
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 4209

       I worked on this for months and it disappeared. One of my past teachers found it and returned it to me. It is a dedication to Edgar Allen Poe and his works, specifically "The Raven". I am almost afraid to post it because I worked so hard on it, and I am afraid that it will get bombed, but I'll take what I can get, suck it up, and get better at writing. It's a bit long. the Nameless Angel is Death AKA the Grim Reaper.

    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsThe Harbringerdots

    The love of my life has been lost,
    making me in sleep turn and toss.
    Her passing has made my feelings unknown,
    for my heart has turned into stone.
    Like the ancient raven who shared his lore,
    my love and I shall speak to each other "Nevermore".

    The hallow cemetary grounds are beaten cold as ever,
    by raindrops on this anniversary of my beloved tie's sever.
    My tears join the rain in drumming the frozen ground,
    upon this I am startled by a most curious sound.
    I turn to meet the fiend who would disturb me so,
    and I see a darkened corvid perched upon a pallid angel's toe.

    I approach this could-be harbringer with a light hearted strole,
    "Why, my friend," I started, "are you perched on a wet angel's toe?"
    "The rain shall surely wet your feathers and the dankness shall give you a cold."
    I approached slowly closer, to see if he'd fly, instead he continued to gaze bold.
    "Would you happen to be real or just my imagination,
    or just a jest upon my very soul or a harbringer of a fallen nation?"

    Then I felt the wind grow harder and harder,
    within which I heard my wife's voice grow farther and farther.
    Soon the wind ceased, and though it blew leaves and rubbish,
    it failed to ruffle any part of the raven's oily plumage.
    "Why do you taunt and torment me with my wife's voice and the wind?"
    "Ruffian, fiend, fallen angel, return thyself to the hell from which you were sent!!!"

    The ghastly bird peered at me, gazing at my core...no...my soul,
    and muttered "Nevermore". At this my blood, like the rainwater on the ground, ran cold.
    I gazed, in morbid curiosity, upon this winged seer,
    and swore I felt a solitary raindrop upon my neck, fallen like a tear.
    The drop of rain coursed down my neck forming a scarlet necklace,
    for the raindrop was crimson, as crimson as a mask I saw in earlier days.

    Adverting my gaze to the pallid angel, I realized it was crying blood
    for someone...no me.I pondered as the blood askewed the angel's face and fell to the mud.
    "Is this my angel, my wife?!!", I shrieked, "May I see her? Will I see her again?", I asked the macabre imp.
    "Nevermore, nevermore, nevermore!", the raven cawed in an almost mocking manner, and my body became limp.
    "Why not?", I mumbled, "Why can I not see my wife?!!!" I screamed like a delirious banshee.
    "I have done no wrong and have wronged no one! Why is it that Heaven's doors won't open for me?!!"

    Silence, save for the hum-drum of the rain and the rumbling of distant thunder.
    "Why?!! Why in silence do you make me wait? Making me wait...why not rip my soul asunder?!!"
    Another tear fell upon my head. Inadvertantly I glanced up at the angel,
    to my suprise the raven was there, leaving the toe for the head as a place to rest his tail.
    "Just kill me. I have no will. I have nothing anymore,
    for my love is gone. A woman with the maiden name Lenore."

    The harbringer's eyes shone with an unholy glare,
    predestinating me to my future, Hell's flare.
    A chill ran through my body, filling me with pure horror.
    With a caw and an unraveling of wings, it began to soar.
    Full of fear, I began to sprint between the stone of death.
    I dashed and I bolted until I ran out of breath.

    I found myself at the cemetary's exit gates,
    staring into the desolate darkness I realize I'm to late.
    From the darkness came a dulled sound of a church bell,
    I started to sob and repent because the darkness became enveloped by flames from Hell.
    There were the sounds of unforgiving cries, screams, wails, and whips of leather;
    I then realized that the Nameless Angel had come for me on wings of black feather.

    Submitted on 2005-02-10 17:33:41     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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