Once i had a little dream,
which kept me up for days to come
I sat perched up on my bed
Thinking both day and night
What was my dream, you ask?
Ah, it was frightful, i say,
For i saw a raven which
Sat on the golden windowsill
As it did, it stared, so keen,
With its beady black eyes,
which were as dark as the blackest nights
No light in which to gleam inside
So i tried the light on my desk
To glimpse it even better then,
Oh, but of course!
The light, it would not at all, shine on.
I weeped and shrieked, so loud,
Oh the light, it was flawed!
For it flickered so wildly,
and, i remembered then,
Oh, but it has been always so!
And i knew, yet i cried.
Afraid, i cried out,
For then, in it flew
And it landed not so far,
from my very very hair,
And he, with his golden beak,
nuzzled my lovely hair
And i sat so very still
As to not scare it away,
Until, then it flew away,
But not before mking the noise
That ravens always make,
cawing and croaking to say:
'Goodbye, my dear
Maybe we'll meet again right here
And i will be in your gentle heart,
Eched as if a scar in your innocent mind
Perched right there, right here
On your golden windowsill.'
And then i woke, startled,
For my heart sang so loud,
I thought one would hear,
And then, there sat on the windowsill,
A raven as black as night.
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