Concerning Lenore
Concerning Lenore
By Sterling Kerman
Parody of ‘The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe’
There I was, that dreaded dark September evening. Lost in thought and parody of mind, pondering the ancient poems and tales which bring horror and fear to all. For on the night past, it was, from the passing of my dearest friend. Of whom had left me to wander, to ponder, the unknown that awaited… and had conquered her.
As I sat and mourned, not yet weeping although surely such was upon the morn. I heard a racking, nay a knocking upon the glass panes outside my dark and empty dorm. There outside awaiting, my greatest and deepest awaking fears from long forgotten lore.
“Surely this is not a sore tale from ironic lore, a pressing reminder of the grim tidings that surely come to haunt me once more” said I as I pondered deeply the meaning of such a rude awakening. “Surely there is no raven, no ghastly bird awaiting. It is only the wind or branch scratching, scratching at the glass paned window of my dorm, only this and nothing more” at this, I did horribly giggle, pain from inside erupting to quench such chuckling soon thereafter.
But then again, did it come. The same terrible knocking of beak upon glass, a true reminder of tales of lore… surely bird had come, but not a Raven to bring upon this frail body the tales of doom, the gloomy understanding of things no man dares ponder any longer. No, such was not for me to behold.
On the third time that it did come scratching, racking at my curiosity defining, I did rise from where I had been slumbering… awaiting that doom that soon would surely come. Perhaps in this mystery exploring, I should stay off that oncoming sleep that would never end again.
“What unholy demon comes to disturb my sleeping?” I did say whereat I did open up the windows of my dorm, outlooking to that which should surely bring my oncoming doom. Surely there, as my heart had feared, stood a Raven upon tree and branch awaiting; the same that my dearest lost friend had planted years before.
Heart sunken with fear, dreading the omen that surely was this unseemly reality, I did speak once more with broken rhythm “Oh save my soul before the end that comes. Who art thou Raven? Have you come to speak of my lost Lenore? Of my beautiful and now gone Lenore?”
Quoth the Raven, nothing at all.
As I waited in silence, his red eyes a’flaming- staring into the deepest parts of my soul; I did dream dreams and desire meanings to all my life long regrets and forgotten memoirs. Who had sent such a beastly image, what meanings bore the silence of this demon from hell below?
“Tell me Raven, demon or angel unknown. Tell me who thou art, tell me of Lenore! Or merely have ye come to torment my mind? My weak and feeble mind?” said I, awaiting some unnatural decree, some unholy meaning to this unique and ironic meeting.
Quoth the Raven, nothing at all.
Here did I stamp my feet, my arms pointing in rage, my hatred and fear now appearing upon the protrusions of vein and eye. “Is this your silence a reckoning? Some devilish form of beckoning? Or do you come to mock? Mock my tormented fear, and broken heart which weeps for my lost and broken Lenore.” Here, despite reason and truth, was she called Lenore.
The silence unnerving began its’ worming, worming itself into my soul. What truths it wrought, or hidden thoughts of old, I fear to ponder. The wretched memories of regretful truths, and lies untold. Weak and weary was I, and to my knees I did kneel… my head fallen, with tears falling more.
“What cometh thee for? What torment have ye brought upon my soreful soul?” Said I arising from my bent and wretched state. Here I did stoop from the window, staring upon that dreadful devil. “Your silence lasteth, but surely this session is no coincidental irony? Ney, surely not this. Perhaps ye come to hear my broken confession? That regret which brings my heart the sorest distress?”
Quoth the Raven, nothing at all.
The silence unbroken by bird or devil, he did stare upon me no less subtle. His beady red eyes like ruby did seem unchanging, unblinking… as if he was awaiting. “Hah! Surely it is this, surely before I join my lost Lenore you have come to save me from wanting?”
Quoth the Raven, nothing at all.
“Damned beast and devil, surely such are evil. But this I will tell ye, for such pains do no longer strain me to hide. I never sought that radiant maiden, ney I never made such effort! Coward am I! Coward are thee also, in thy gloomy silence- believing that ye should be my doom. Hah fool of feather, I did indeed cower from embracing that which I loved. I stood afraid, alike thou in a tree, weeping only for that which I adored. Now she’s gone away, and soon so shall I also be.”
“CAW CAW!” Croaked the raven, as it turned and fluttered into flight, his path to the heavens and beyond my small and dimly lit dormitory room. Never again to bring me torment, save in his silent reminder of that which cometh soon.
“God take me, for weak and weary am I. No story nor tale of lore did I learn, no repetition of drama did I partake. Ney, only that which is true and of regret- which I am yet to atone... that I shall pass alone.” Said I as the night grew dimmer, and the crows of that late September did wait and watch as I fell finally into a grave slumber. Alone forever more