Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
Upon the velvet shroud of night, where silvered shadows weep and blight,
I wander through the hollow halls and tap-tap-tap upon the door—
The door of silent memories where the ghosts of love encore,
Nameless here for evermore.
Oh, the cruel and gilded anguish! In this gloom my soul shall languish,
For to love a thing of mortal dust is but to love a shore—
A shore where starlit eyes must fade, within the deep and dismal shade,
Where beauty is a fleeting breath—a rose the fires of Time devour,
Consuming all the mortal heart with its soul-consuming power,
Darkness there and nothing more.
Raven wings of midnight beating, while the pulse of life is fleeting,
Against the rusted shuttered pane, where salt and falling rain outpour;
But in this gloom a web is spun, more radiant than the living sun,
For love is never half so fair as when it haunts the marble floor—
In sepulchers of ebony where lonely spirits keep their lore,
Gone to the distant, Aidenn shore.
Let the bells of iron tolling, keep the heavy vapors rolling,
There is nectar found in grieving—majesty within the core;
I shall wed the dark and shroud, beneath the heavy, leaden cloud,
For death has made a timeless queen of the ghost I must adore—
The lost and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Quoth the spirit, "Nevermore."
KiddMysticc
Feb 20
Feb 20, 2026 at 1:31 PM UTC
Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
Upon the velvet shroud of night, where silvered shadows weep and blight,
I wander through the hollow halls and tap-tap-tap upon the door—
The door of silent memories where the ghosts of love encore,
Nameless here for evermore.
Oh, the cruel and gilded anguish! In this gloom my soul shall languish,
For to love a thing of mortal dust is but to love a shore—
A shore where starlit eyes must fade, within the deep and dismal shade,
Where beauty is a fleeting breath—a rose the fires of Time devour,
Consuming all the mortal heart with its soul-consuming power,
Darkness there and nothing more.
Raven wings of midnight beating, while the pulse of life is fleeting,
Against the rusted shuttered pane, where salt and falling rain outpour;
But in this gloom a web is spun, more radiant than the living sun,
For love is never half so fair as when it haunts the marble floor—
In sepulchers of ebony where lonely spirits keep their lore,
Gone to the distant, Aidenn shore.
Let the bells of iron tolling, keep the heavy vapors rolling,
There is nectar found in grieving—majesty within the core;
I shall wed the dark and shroud, beneath the heavy, leaden cloud,
For death has made a timeless queen of the ghost I must adore—
The lost and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Quoth the spirit, "Nevermore."
KiddMysticc