Written for: Poetic Bloomings2 #278
“Any truly great story, tale or poem has a beginning and an end. What fills the body of such is what ties it all together. But, what happened that you should “not go gentle into that good night”? What happened during the miles you had to traverse before you were able to sleep? Choose a classic poem of your liking and write either the prequel or the sequel in your piece. If you’re writing a prequel, the last line of your poem should be the first line of your chosen poem, giving a natural progression into said masterpiece. Your sequel begins with the last line of the classic poem.”
And my soul from out that shadow
that lies floating on the floor
shall be lifted-nevermore!
Sadly, madly in my grief did I dream
of the maiden known as sweet Lenore.
Surcease of sorrow from my books
would be granted-Nevermore.
A shadow inked in outline of
the raven looked so mournful
and despairing, that my soul
thought lost forever that night,
became at once an ember
lit of caring, and I wondered
is there more?
My chamber door did rattle
behind the darkened drapes
of sorrow where I wished
there’d be no morrow. A peak
through slit showed the raven
ever sitting, ever brooding, now
motioning me to do its bidding,
though it uttered not a word.
I opened my window and the bird
who sat upon the pallid bust
of Pallas, flew to my window-
sill, and though it be absurd
upon my shoulder placed a claw.
Had the bird had become much bolder?
I implore you to believe this mad man
when he tells you that his body
quickly blackened, wings grew he,
and fingers turned to claws.
So off we flew together in that bleakest
of Novembers, and with jubilation
I expressed my elation that I did not
feel so all alone. Lenore whispered–
(with a nod to Poe)