Post by Akaio on Jan 21, 2009 10:16:15 GMT
Yeah, I am a hoe. This is totally lifted from 'The Raven' by Poe, but I tried to change somestuff to make it my onw...trhen I think I got distracted.
If you like I may try to complete it, but heres the first bitty bit bit.
Whilst I sat in a room of yonder, a room of which the God’s felt no fonder
I slept, a tried to dream of something else,
Maybe, so I could have escaped, the fine holes that the beast had raked
Into my heart, and thus I slept.
And I dreamt.
Perhaps it was the wind blowing, I truly have know honest way of knowing,
How those dreams cam into showing me
Things that I had never seen before,
For if I were to awaken then, I surely would have been again
Within the nightmares of the why’s and when of the living,
On a fine November’s eve.
Perhaps it was the fine rapping, the gentle faint and subtle tapping
Beneath my room on yonder land,
Or maybe it was the ember’s, each sighing it’s own tale to render
Why I dreamt I am not sure, but to be certain upon the floor
Sat ghosts, watching, waiting in the darkness of the floor.
And so with the yonder ghosts they weaved
A tale, that had never been conceived
If you like I may try to complete it, but heres the first bitty bit bit.
Whilst I sat in a room of yonder, a room of which the God’s felt no fonder
I slept, a tried to dream of something else,
Maybe, so I could have escaped, the fine holes that the beast had raked
Into my heart, and thus I slept.
And I dreamt.
Perhaps it was the wind blowing, I truly have know honest way of knowing,
How those dreams cam into showing me
Things that I had never seen before,
For if I were to awaken then, I surely would have been again
Within the nightmares of the why’s and when of the living,
On a fine November’s eve.
Perhaps it was the fine rapping, the gentle faint and subtle tapping
Beneath my room on yonder land,
Or maybe it was the ember’s, each sighing it’s own tale to render
Why I dreamt I am not sure, but to be certain upon the floor
Sat ghosts, watching, waiting in the darkness of the floor.
And so with the yonder ghosts they weaved
A tale, that had never been conceived