Depression and Moods- Check in! (Page 14)

This is my version of Edgar Allen Poe's famous writing, "The Raven".

It is based upon the beastie we call depression, that may be quiet, or even appear gone, but is really always there just beneath the surface waiting for the perfect time to whisper it's lies in your ears. 

It is there for "EVERMORE"

Best if spoken out loud



Once upon a midlife dreary, while I pondered sad and teary

Over many a thought and dreaded memory of unforgotten yore

While I nodded from no evening napping, suddenly there came a rapping

As of some one stamping stamping on my head like a metal door

Tis some memory I muttered, stamping on my life of bore

Only this and nothing more

 
Ah from January thru December it was of the bleak remember

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor

Eagerly I wished the sorrow, that I had only begged to borrow

From my books, and friends, of morrow, sorrow for my days of yore

For the rare and radiant days, those wonderful days of days before

Dreaded days for evermore

And the silken sadness fear, uncertain thoughts both there and here

Thrilled me no, but filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

Tis some stranger beating beating entrance at my protecting door

Some attacking stranger beating entrance at my protective door

That it is and nothing more.

Presently my soul grew weaker, hesitating, became much bleaker

Sir said I, or Madam, truly your compassion I implore

But the fact is I was hearing sounds yes sounds  that I am fearing

And you were banging, banging, banging at my protective door

That I scarce was sure I wished to know, the who might be at open door

Darkness there, and nothing more

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering fearing

Doubting, fearing fears no mortal dared to know before

But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token

And the only word there spoken was the whispererd word before

This I whispered and an echo murmured back the word before

Merely this and nothing more

Back into my self returning, all my soul with in me burning

But soon again, I heard the stamping somewhat louder than before

Surely said I surely that is something at my protective door

Let me see then what it is and this mystery explore

Let my mind be still a moment and this mystery explore

Tis the wind and nothing more

Open here I flung the shutter, when with many a flirt and flutter

In there stepped a stately beast of the saintly days of yore

Not a turn of head made he, nor a minute stopped or stayed did he

But with cape of lord or lady, perched above my protective door

Perched upon my favorite painting just above my protective door

Perched and crouched and nothing more

Then this shadowy beast wings spread my so sad fancy turned quick to dread

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore

Though thy crest be shorn and darkened, thou I said art sure to harken

Ghastly grim and ancient embarking wandering into the nightly shore -

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s so cold cold shore

Quoth my beast, said Evermore

Much I marveled this ungainly shadow to hear discourse so plainly

Though its answer little meaning  little relevancy bore

For we cannot help agreeing that a normal human being

Ever was stressed with seeing, shadow about his protective door

Something beastly above the painted painting above his protective door

With such name as Evermore

But the beast sitting oh so lonely on the painted paint spoke only

That one word as if his soul in that one word he did outpour

Nothing further then he uttered  not a threat or promise muttered

Till I scarcely more than stuttered,…….Other beasts I’ve met before

On the morrow will he leave me as my fears have flown before

Then the beast said Evermore

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

Doubless said I what it utters is its only stock and store

Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Just one word as if to master, all of life as long disaster

Followed fast and followed faster till his words one burden bore

Till the dirges of his hope that fateful prediction bore

Of Never-no but Evermore

But the beastie still suppressing all my gladness to depressing

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of beast and paint and door

And then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to thinking
Fancy unto fancy thinking what this ominous beast of yore

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous beast of yore

Meant in croaking  Evermore

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the beast whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’re

But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp light gloating o’re

It shall press, as Evermore

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censor

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

Beast I cried thy Devil lent thee, not some angels he has sent me

Respite - respite and fetch from thy memories of Before!

Quaff, oh quaff this unkind doing, and don’t forget this lost Before!

Then Quoth the beastie, For Evermore

Beastie said I you’re here to steal?  Beastie you are whether hurt or heal

Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -

Is there - is there hope in my soul? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'

Quoth the beastie, `Nevermore.'

Beastie said I, thing of evil!  Beastie still, if real or devil

By that Heaven that bends above us  or that hell we both abhore

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant fading

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels might adore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named before'

Quoth the Beastie, `Evermore.'
nothing said but Evermore

`Be that word our sign of parting, beast or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -

`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's forgiving shore!

Leave no blackness as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the edge above my door!

Take thy teeth from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'

Quoth the Beastie, `Evermore.'

And the beastie, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On may favorite painted painting sitting above my protective door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted - Nevermore!