The Demon (Poe’s “The Raven”)

Once behind bars of steel, there I was forced to kneel,

Under women clad in hellish snowy white.

While my spirit slowly buckled, from Hell itself rose a chuckle,

And shadows birthed in place of sputtered candlelight-

And the monster drove out the candlelight

And cast the madhouse into night.

Often humans are deplorable heathens, but little do they summon demons,

Even whence they equaled all the pain I bore.

She set my soul to churning, and her crimson eyes were burning,

She smirked, and offered me rapport-

Why did I accept her hideous rapport!

Perhaps, she murmured, "Vieni, amore."

"Did you cry for a sinner?" I swear, she set my heart to quiver!

I looked to her face, her figure red and stained with gore.

"No, I cried for a savior," and my strength didn't waver,

"So be an angel, that is all I dare implore.

"Take from me anything you dare implore."

She smirked, and murmured, "Yes, amore."

She had serpent fangs and an angel's face, ruby eyes left to trace,

A girl as she was bruised and bloodied on the floor.

She held a virulent smile, a charmed smirk laced with guile,

And extended a hand, nails red with blood and gore-

I took her hand, mine stained red with blood and gore.

Her words entranced me, "Yes, amore."

Much to my later disgust, I realized I was forced to trust

A demon, though I had no faith in humans ever before.

I had paid a humble price, only my soul and claim to paradise,

But what use have I for that any more?

What use have I for a life any more?

Since she murmured, "Yes, amore."

Yet, I grew to harbor affection, and with it, somehow, feared rejection.

Was I to her only what I swore?

Did she kneel of obligation or did she bow of adoration?

No, I had no thought to be her paramour

Nor the time or love to be her paramour,

Despite her sultry, “Yes, amore.”

With each word so softly spoken, for a year I still had no more token;

Did she have eyes only for our rapport?

Still, she sets my soul to churning and her crimson eyes kept burning

So, of course, I wouldn't dare deplore

For how could I possibly deplore,

Her quiet vow, “Yes, amore.”

One night in the lull of summer, the sky bellowed rain and thunder,

And she came through our own front door.

Although not my beloved savior, she was of the same behavior.

I did not recognize the holder of our rapport.

Why did I not recognize the holder of our rapport?

She never laughed, “Yes, amore.”

Our comfort broken by a stranger who revealed herself to be an angel

And left the demon lying dead upon the floor.

I sincerely tried to revel, since she was merely devil,

Yet, I cried for our hideous rapport.

I had never had eyes for only our rapport.

Especially when she murmurs, “Yes, amore.”

My demon, though she was iconic, still her death was so ironic!

My heart still equaled all the pain I bore.

Still, she sets my soul to churning, although, her eyes no longer burning-

Have I felt this pain before?

I believe I've felt this pain before

After her last, “Yes, amore.”

I was not there to see her death, or to witness her final breath,

But I know what she’d have asked me for.

I learned she kneeled of adoration, and she bowed of obligation.

She is my savior nevermore,

And will be mine forevermore.

Her truth was uttered, “Yes, amore.”