"The Raven"

In shadows deep, where darkness lies,

A tale unfolds 'neath starless skies.

A poet lost in sorrow's plight,

Encountered a bird of endless night.

"The Raven," perched upon a bust,

Its ebony plumes filled him with disgust.

Its eyes aflame with an eerie glow,

As if the depths of Hades it did know.

With mournful voice, it spoke its verse,

A chilling tale that made hearts immerse.

"Nevermore," it croaked, in endless refrain,

A haunting word that caused great pain.

The poet, weary and filled with woe,

Sought answers from the bird's eerie show.

He questioned, pleaded, sought respite,

But "Nevermore" echoed through the night.

Each verse it uttered, a dagger deep,

Into the poet's soul, it began to seep.

His sanity waned, his mind unbound,

In the presence of this bird profound.

Haunted by memories, lost Lenore,

The poet's heart forever tore.

The Raven's presence, a constant reminder,

Of a love lost, a flame expired.

As darkness claimed the poet's being,

The Raven, with eyes so unseeing,

Became an omen, a symbol of despair,

A spectral messenger in the poet's lair.

"The Raven," with its somber tone,

Revealed truths only known to the alone.

In its ebony feathers, secrets did dwell,

Unraveling a tale of heaven and hell.

Oh, Edgar's Raven, forevermore renowned,

A masterpiece in which anguish is found.

Its words etched upon the poet's soul,

In haunting echoes that forever roll.

And as the years have come and gone,

"The Raven" lingers, its legacy lives on.

A testament to sorrow's might,

A poem that still haunts the darkest night.