Edgar Allan Poe
They all wash over me with pitying eyes, they think that I don't see.
Yet they are only crude jagged faces on the canvas of my dreams.
Empty their wishes float, as they seem to pray my safe return.
How can they know the fever that within this prison burns.
For what is this sinister slow waltz to hell without my sweet Lenore?
My wish which any fool can guess, I must be with her once more.
How my heels find their way to that vacant tomb beyond the bedroom door.
Now I curse the promise of that desperate hour! not to join my love Lenore.
Hooves over meadows, we graced the silent clearings, along our secret path.
We were enough to make the Robins blush as we weaved a bed of wild grass.
Hers was the hair that called for my touch to caress in silent bliss.
Tell me she waits on the shore with my steed, our escape and her heavenly kiss!
Will the sea ever whisper a message or the breeze from beyond sigh my name?
Was the promise she demanded just a frantic dream, some madman's twisted game.
No, dear God she will never grace this door! yet I will find my bride Lenore.
I scream to still the sounds of the devils breath hissing never-nevermore.
No Lenore, my sweet and graceful bride, we on distant dunes will ride.
Along that forever summer shore. my soul will search forever-evermore.