The Raven (inspired by Edgar Allan Poe)

Sulking on one sunny afternoon,

Laying on a garden bench; feeling at a loss.

Missing the woman he had held.

The girl had been a beauty,

None would suggest otherwise.

So he had taken her hand, lest she fawn over another.

And he kept her there; a dazzling pair of antlers on the mantle.

Though the years let her go.

Pulling down on her face; smearing oil over a fine painting.

Until she lay at rest.

Now he awaits his next prize: another dazzling woman to be by his side.

Yet a raven takes a place upon the bench.

It stares with deep curiosity.

"Why do you sit here o' wise raven?"

The bird took a cautious step closer, 

Inching over to the man.

"Will you give me a word?, just one word, to snag the woman of my dreams!"

The raven frowns, and with a hateful gaze:

"Never again." it says.

The man stood, enraged at the bird.

Trying to strike at it, he catches it's eyes,

They look the same as her's, scared and confused,

Crying, screaming and begging for him to stop.

Yet now, the raven sits screaming; cawing with such rage,

"Never again." she says.

Absurd_Poems

SA

18 years old

More by Absurd_Poems

  • But a Passing Moment

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    Standing upright like the rest, yet so different to all the others.
    You fascinate me, I try to watch closely but feel as if I am afar.

  • Unmoving

    And now I sit, unmoving.
    The epicentre of my own downward spiral.
    Unwilling, unchanging; staring desolate into the void.
    Bored into unproductivity.
    Feelings of loathing arise.
    The great pleasure of completion fades.