Very, very dreadfully nervous...
Disease sharpened my senses-
Not destroyed! Not dulled!-
Above all.. Hearing acute...
I could hear all things
In heaven, earth, and hell.
Impossible to say how
The idea penetrated my brain
It haunted me, day and night.
Object? NONE! Passion? NONE!
I loved him, truly I cherished, adored, admired him
Never a wrong or an insult between him and me
No desire for his gold had my wicked heart...
His eye…
YES! It was THIS!
A vulture's eye it was
A pale grey bead
With a film over it
It fell upon me-
My blood ran cold,
So cold, so cold,
So frigid even the eye-
That very same evil eye
Which had brought me the miserable cold to begin with-
Could not compare to the ice of the doomed chambers within my soul.
And so it was!
Gradually, gradually,
I made up my mind
To rid myself of the evil
Forever.
You fancy me mad-
This is not so!
Madmen know nothing.
But how clever was I,
Oh how clever indeed.
How I wish you could have seen me!
How wisely I proceeded-
With what caution and foresight-
I went to work,
And I worked methodically
Just so, all according to plan;
I worked
Until I succeeded.
You fancy me mad,
But no, sir, this is not the case,
You do not give me enough credit;
Madmen are worlds away from me.
I was never kinder to the man
Then in the time proceeding his death.
And he never suspected it was so, but...
Every midnight, I opened his door,
Inserted a dark lantern, and ****** in my head
Very, very slowly… how cunningly- you’d laugh
Yes, you would laugh
For you fancied me a madman
And I proved you oh so wrong, did I not?
It took me a full hour to slide my head in
And gaze upon him as he lay alseep his bed
Ha! What madman could have been so wise as this?
Upon the final night, I was more than usually cautious
A watch’s delicate hand moves more quickly than did mine.
Never before had I felt the extent of my own powers
I could scarcely contain the triumph raining down from the heavens.
To think that there I was and he did not dream of it
I fairly chuckled at the idea; perhaps he heard me-
Perhaps you in your search for the madman have got the wrong mind!
He moved suddenly, as if startled
You may think that I drew back- I DID NOT!
I was too close to victory to retreat,
And so I held my courage, held it tight.
Would a madman not have been too nervous,
Much too nervous to manage all that I had, all that I did?
The room was black as the inside center of the eye,
Shutters fastened, ever so tightly fastened
So as to keep out the city night,
In my calm, in my incredible precise wisdom
I knew that he could not see the opening;
I kept pushing on, steadily, so steadily
I was about to open the lantern;
My thumb slipped.
The old man sprang up, crying out-
CRYING OUT!
I kept completely still and said nothing. But NOTHING!
I did not move a muscle and I made no sound, stopping my own breath
I did not hear him lie down
He was still sitting up, listening- just as I had.
I heard a slight groan and I knew: mortal terror
Not of pain or grief- OH NO!
This low, stifled sound arises from the soul
When overcharged with awe-
I knew the primal beast too well!
Many a midnight it has welled up,
Deepening with dreadful echo the terrors-
Oh yes, I knew it ever so well
I pitied him, although I chuckled at heart.
See! I am not the madman you think!
He had been trying to comfort himself
And all in vain-
For his prayers came too little, too late.
Death had staked and enveloped the victim.
This was inspired by Edgar Allan Poe's "The Tell Tale Heart".