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Once a upon a cold midnight, there was a man. Tis a sad man, a weak and weary man. Alone all in his chamber. Quaint and curious of once forgotten wisdom.
Then, just then the man heard a noise. A simple tap at his chamber door. A rapping at the chamber door. It must be a visitor he thought.
When remembered, the love of his life. Lenore, nameless to the living cause she rest and lives no more.
Thrilled at the purple curtains. Fear fulfilling him, the terror he's never felt before. "Tis' some visitor entreating entreating entrance at my chamber door;- This it is and nothing more." He says to himself.
The tapping had been a visitor, tis a raven. Black as the night. It perched above the chamber door, perched upon Pallas just above the chamber door. The raven speaks of 'nevemore. Nevermore , to see his love Lenore.
"Nevermore", the raven quoted. Yelling and rambling of the lost Lenore. "Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!" the raven spoke. The raven sitting, never moving from its spot up on the Pallas upon the chamber door. The mans shadow lies against the floor, floating tis' shall be lifted- nevermore!
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