The raven that sat
above my door
watched and waited
for me
to find more.

Planning, plotting,
with mischeevious delight,
nevermore, nevermore
moving in and out
of sight.

Dead is the raven,
sitting no more.
The Reaper killed
the raven for saying
nevermore.

He watches, he waits
Never far away.
Smiling from shadows,
waiting for the end
to take me away.

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