Of Ravens and Poets

 
A few minutes past the midnight hour, the chambermaids began to scour
Searching for the horrific cries of a woman somewhere on the third floor
And upon finding the guest room, the nervous manager broke in like a goon
They heard her screams of pain coming from behind the bathroom door

The woman yelled “help me please”, there on the bathroom floor on her knees
Clenching her stomach as she bled somewhere underneath her gown
The hotel manager with quick intuition, had a bell boy rush to get a physician
And the young man dashed to fetch the only doctor they had in town

The chambermaids helped her to bed, as she fell unconscious still she bled
They gathered towels and cloths and covers by candlelight
Soon the local physician examined her, as one chambermaid concurred
The doctor told the room “She’s in labor and will give birth tonight”

“Who is she?” the doctor asked around, “She’s a guest from out of town…
But I know her carriage driver is staying here in the hotel” the manager said
Soon the carriage driver arrived, a bit scared, confused and sleep deprived
But his eyes opened wide upon seeing the young woman bleeding in bed

“She went out of town to visit family, as we returned she smiled happily
We just made a stop here for her to rest as we still have fifty miles…
She’s not due for another six weeks, but now all this seems so bleak
She and her husband have had their share of troubles and trials…”

They wrote her information down and sent a telegraph to her hometown,
To get the urgent news to her husband who was fifty miles away
But a storm was approaching now, the night seemed darker somehow
And with any luck, the husband would arrive in the middle of the day

-      -      

There’s a knock in the dark of night, a man opens the door by candlelight
A messenger hands him a telegram that says his wife is about to give birth
The man gets his coat, hat and sable and rushes over to the stables
And rides out into the storm on horseback ready to move heaven and earth

The stallion races through the mud, as the rider felt fire in his blood
In the woods the rain and lightning seem to scream across the night
Ghosts seem to appear amidst the trees, as the rider prayed “oh God please…
Please give me the grace to reach my beloved by morning light”

The lonely rider in the storm, rode boldly to see his child born
His horse bore the weight of life and death with heavy breath and stride
Galloping in the rain all night long, his resolve unwavering and strong
Taking his rider the distance so he could be at his bride’s bedside

Then just before dawn’s first light, the rider appeared with heroic might
The tired horse’s hooves echoed in the town streets of cobblestone
As he ran up the stairs of the hotel, he heard the chambermaids’ yell
Time was moving slowly as if his life was leaving his very bones

But when the rider reached the room, the doctor and maids stood in gloom
Mother and child laid there lifeless in bed, the light was there no more
And the rider fell to his knees, whispering “oh no, oh God, oh please”
At the foot of the bedframe he cried her name “my sweet beloved Lenore”

He knew
it was not safe to cross
Figured it would be
nobody’s loss

The truck it struck him
squashed him dead
His bones were crushed
and out he bled

Gawkers stared
not a thing they could do
As he entered the black
and turned gray and blue

They’ll eat his eyes
swallow his nose
In a flash of beaks
his flesh will go

Vulture fare
will be his new name
As in life his death
just more of the same

A few blood drops
until the road is repaved
His only mark
on life so depraved.

The breathtaking twilight blooms
and doom perches on the constellations.
The formation of the shadows prophesied.

I remain agonized in this silent night.
Blight has settled into my garden.
Pardon the mess of my wilted dreams.

Screams echo still, tombed in my chest.
There will be no rest in my efflorescence.

My essence is dispirited, and I anguish.
Left to languish in mourning
as it has put a stop to my aborning hope.

Maybe I can find a way to cope without my haven,
but the ravens have come calling.
I find their presence appalling, and I grieve in horror
as the explorer of my sanity finds my remnants.

Segments of flesh and bones
thrown beneath once-blossoming flowers.

I have nothing left; devour the rest of my corpse
and warp the requiem to suit your destiny.