A Finger Tap?
A clattering tap,
splattering on the window pane.
On a dark and stormy night.
It is so familiar,
eerie,
calling to me.
With a thunder clap.
Is this a messenger of death?
Or simply a carrion for my carcass?
Its black wings waiting to carry me away.
Those glass covered eyes unflinching.
With a cry.
At the top of the hour
a new sound chimes in,
In rhythmic unison,
That comes from within,
A thumping in my chest,
“...someone gently tapping...”
My mind,
back again with a simple rap.
Staring blankly at the page.
No new words arrive,
even with his help
Should I cry “Nevermore”?
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