Came the purple twilight,
a time so melancholy,
when memories of days gone by –
play with my mind.
Unusual and dark night,
preparing for a stormy time,
I see there up above –
streaks of black clouds fill the sky.
Seemingly a haunting night,
when sprits roam about,
it often filled my heart with dread
and then I saw him atop of the oak tree.
There as the moon shone bright,
at the very top of the old oak tree,
swinging in the wind –
a raven just as black as the night.
It cawed loudly
and the sound echoed all about.
There spotlighted by the moon,
it sat hunched looking into the dark.
Then those clouds that streaked across the sky,
hid the moon from sight,
but I knew that raven was there –
as I looked up to see its eyes glowed like two red hot embers.
Lightning flashed but for a second,
then the wind picked up,
out came the moon
and the raven held on tight.
It seemed to be dancing,
as the upper most branch,
bent this and that –
blown by the wind.
A most ghostly effect,
as those dark clouds stretched across the sky,
shadows grew long beneath the light of the moon
and that raven mournfully did cry.