Once upon a midnight dreary   as I pondered, weak and weary   over many a quaint and curious   volume of forgotten lore   while I nodded, nearly napping   suddenly there came a tapping   as of some one gently rapping   rapping at my chamber door   "'Tis some visitor," I muttered   "tapping at my chamber door   only this and nothing more."      Muttering I got up weakly   always I've had trouble sleeping   stumbling upright my mind racing   furtive thoughts flowing once more   I, there hoping for some sunrise   happiness would be a surprise   loneliness no longer a prize   rapping at my chamber door   seeking out the clever bore   lost in dreams forever more   only this and nothing more      Hovering my pulse was racing   stale tobacco my lips tasting   scotch sitting upon my basin   remnants of the night before   came again   infernal tapping on the door   in my mind jabbing   is it in or outside rapping   calling out to me once more   the fit and fury of Lenore   nameless here forever more      And the silken sad uncertain   rustling of the purple curtain   thrilled me, filled me   with fantastic terrors never felt before   so that now, oh wind, stood breathing   hoping yet to calm my breathing   "'Tis some visitor entreating   entrance at my chamber door   some lost visitor entreating   entrance at my chamber door   this it is, and nothing more."      Deep into the darkness peering   long I stood there   wondering fearing   doubting dreaming fantasies   no mortal dared to dream before   but the silence was unbroken   and the stillness gave no token   and the only word there spoken   was the whispered name, "Lenore."   this I thought   and out loud whispered from my lips   the foul name festered   echoing itself   merely this, and nothing more      Back into my chamber turning   every nerve within me burning   when once again I heard a tapping   somewhat louder than before   "surely," said I   surely that is something at my iron staircase   open the door to see what threat is   open the window, free the shutters   let us this mystery explore   oh, bursting heart be still this once   and let this mystery explore   it is the wind and nothing more      Just one epithet I muttered as inside   I gagged and shuddered   when with manly flirt and flutter   in there flew a stately raven   sleek and ravenous as any foe   not the least obeisance made he   not a minutes gesture towards me   of recognition or politeness   but perched above my chamber door   this fowl and salivating visage   insinuating with its knowledge   perched above my chamber door   silent sat and staring   nothing more      Askance, askew   the self's sad fancy smiles at you I swear   at this savage viscous countenance it wears   Though you show here shorn and shaven   and I admit myself forlorn and craven   ghastly grim and ancient raven   wandering from the opiate shores   tell me what thy lordly name is   that you are not nightmare sewage   some dire powder drink or inhalation   framed from flames of downtown lore   quotes the raven, "nevermore."      And the raven sitting lonely   staring sickly at my male sex only   that one word   as if his soul in that one word   he did outpour, "pathetic."   nothing farther than he uttered   not a feather then he fluttered   till finally was I that muttered as I stared   dully at the floor   "other friends have flown and left me   flown as each and every hope has flown before   as you no doubt will fore the morrow."   but the bird said, "never, more."      Then I felt the air grow denser   perfumed from some unseen incense   as though accepting angelic intrusion   when in fact I felt collusion   before the guise of false memories respite   respite through the haze of cocaine's glory   I smoke and smoke the blue vial's glory   to forget   at once   the base Lenore   quoth the raven, "nevermore."      "Prophet," said I, "thing of evil   prophet still, if bird or devil   by that heaven that bend above us   by that God we both ignore   tell this soul with sorrow laden   willful and destructive intent   how had lapsed a pure heart lady   to the greediest of needs   sweaty arrogant dickless liar   who ascribed to nothing higher   than a jab from prick to needle   straight to betrayal and disgrace   the conscience showing not a trace."   quoth the raven, "nevermore."      "Be that word our sign of parting   bird or fiend," I yelled upstarting   "get thee back into the tempest   into the smoke filled bottle's shore   leave no black plume as a token   of the slime thy soul hath spoken   leave my loneliness unbroken   quit as those have quit before   take the talon from my heart   and see that I can care no more   whatever mattered came before   I vanish with the dead Lenore."   quoth the raven, "nevermore."      But the raven, never flitting   still is sitting silent sitting   above a painting silent painting   of the forever silenced whore   and his eyes have all the seeming   of a demon's that is dreaming   and the lamplight over him   streaming throws his shadow to the floor   I love she who hates me more   I love she who hates me more   and my soul shall not be lifted from that shadow   nevermore