Hello friends! I know it's been a while, but I have finally made a channel that will exclusively talk about poetry, paintings and other art forms. Below you will find a link to my very first video regarding the great Edgar Allan Poe's most known poem, "The Raven". I hope you all have a great day and that you will consider subscribing and liking my video :)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_BFedGlSLo

If our lips were to cuddle

Under the arrows of tears--

An angel's elation Sincere

Would you then unburden

Your tortured soul to me?

If you were to feel the life in my chest

When your troubled head concedes,

And know my heart never to deceive

Would I then be able to bequeath

My declining soul to thee?

Fog canopies the cemetery

As the blood moon scowls

A smell emits from the ground--ghastly

And a hand penetrates the dirt how

A chick emerges from its shell

Looming is a black cladded giant

With long stygian disheveled hair

The color of the atmosphere is now violet

Be prepared to face your damned despair

A tombstone is already crafted.

I constantly grieve for you

Oh, how I used to hate you

I once saw in the reflection

Someone looking to be adored--

Eyes polluted with sorrow, a gaze

So bleak that a mannequin looked more

real

How could you still feel?

Why did you still try?

Where the answer lies

Resides behind that doleful look

That opaque oasis that we call will

And you willed your way there--

To the state you're at now

I used to hate you, but

Now, I think I love you.

I have a vision where I--

Eyes scarlet, hair abalze--

Roam the earth extracting souls

For the glory of the allmighty--

My new and forever Lord!

Do you hear me? May I serve thee?

I can't quite seem to find you

Yet, you always seem to find me

How is it that my aim were dreams

But your dreams are me?

So tell me, how can I find you?

How did you find me in the seas

Of trauma, where my thoughts anchored

My being to aimless troubled needs

To what lengths much I stretch for you?

Must I delve into the fire of your ire?

Or hold you when illness keeps you still?

Perhaps you shouldn't have to tell

Perhaps I should always know

Now I will passionately fortell

That I will die trying to find you--

And make you a Heaven out of my Hell.

Change is seen as a worm on a hook

And we, the unsuspecting fish

Latch on--we either escape or die

If free, we move on aimlessly

If thrown into an atmosphere--new

We sinew the unknown with the known

Then we find that change is like air--

Always there, continuously needed

Perhaps, we escape water to grow wings.