• There upon the gravestone sits the form of a blackened Raven,
    Its feathers rustling with the up-down motion of its breathing,
    The only sound heard is the restless movement of the its continuous sigh,
    The sound of its softened heartbeat,
    The reminiscence of a storm cloud’s toll,
    And the gentle pitter-patter of rain upon the street.

    I sit upon the curb-stoned street,
    Listening to the content heaving of the Raven,
    As it sat unfazed, curfew bells beginning to toll,
    Above the sound of my own monotonous heartbeat,
    Warning against those left breathing,
    To take leave from a nightmarish sigh.

    I sat there unfazed by the pious tolling, letting forth a strenuous sigh,
    Contemplating the Raven’s motives as I sat upon the curb-stoned street,
    Listening evermore for its monotonous heartbeat,
    Staring into the beady eyes of the ever-content Raven,
    Listening intently for the sound of its breathing,
    Hearing not a thing as the bells continually toll.

    The Raven moved at the end of curfew’s toll,
    No more than an inch or the breath of a sigh,
    No more than the slight exhalation in breathing,
    It moved not a creep, nor the width of a street,
    In astonishment, I stared at the statue-like Raven,
    No longer able to hear its monotonous heartbeat.

    I ambled about, pressing my ear against its chest in search of a heartbeat,
    Yet not a sound was all I heard above the nightmare’s toll,
    Not a breath was seen rustling the form of the blackened Raven,
    Causing its only breath to sigh,
    Nor a single raindrop pattered upon the curb-stoned street,
    Or the toll of the bells to stimulate its breathing.

    Silence befell the Raven and stifled my only breathing,
    Stifling the monotonous peal of a laborious heartbeat,
    As I sat there upon the curb-stoned street,
    Listening to the storm clouds toll,
    Listening no longer to the content breathing of the Raven’s sigh,
    As I flew forth and left the impious Raven.

    The only sound heard is the continuous sigh of a storm cloud’s toll.
    The sound of rain and the gentle rustling of the breathing Raven;
    There it sits upon the gravestone, listening to its softened heartbeat.