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About Us
Beyond Clarity Waters
Character Inspirations
Creature Origins
Magic Users
Black Magic




Reiko Lynomi Toorikosu



Once upon the Rat's Hour, while I rest with lungs so tight
Over many a quaint short of breath, eyes lacking conscious sight
While resting there, nearly napping, when abruptly there came a snapping
As though some fool was gently beating, summoning some kind of meeting
"Tis some summon", I muttered, "taking place outside my seating-
Only this, a meager meet fleeting."


Ah, distinctly I reminisce it was black December,
And each puff of breath was a moment visited by sin
Eagerly I wished the hours by; -vaguely hoping for the fin
My time was empty, vastly dreadful- dreadful for the grin-
For the lucid and sacred maiden whom the spirits name Reilyn-
Shameless here for then.


And the suede mourn empty caressing of each navy veil
Thrilled me, filled me with fantastic terrors never felt since when;
So that when, to stop the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"Tis some summon relieving refuge at my seating,
Some lost visitor relieving refuge at my seating,
That is all, no worth the remove of sheeting."


Currently my conscious lit higher, growing into an ethereal fire,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly I your forgiveness I implore"
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came snapping,
And so faintly you were retreating, meeting outside my seating,
That I scarce was sure I sensed you"-here I opened wide the door;-
Silence there, and nothing more.


Staring into that silence not hearing, long I stood there pondering, wondering
Viewing false illusions so mortal ever fronted fore;
The mirage was unbroken, the stillness shedding nothing spoken,
And the only breath uttered was the fearful waken, "Reilyn!"
This I uttered, and a callback shouted back the waken, "Reilyn!"-


Back into my domain skirting, all my conscious within me hurting,
Soon again I heard a snapping somehow louder than the first.
"Surely," said I, "Surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what curse this is, and this mystery fhirst-
Let my soul be still a moment, and this mystery burst;-
'Tis the breeze and nothing worst."


Upon here I threw the window broken, then, with many a skirt and shaken,
In there swooped a stately raven of the saintly days of when;
Not the least obsidian made he, not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with name of saint or devil, perched above my empty seating-
Perched upon am arch of cherry just above my deserted seating-
Perched and sat, nothing fleeting.


Then this ebony bird beguiling my mourn fancy into smirking,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it bear.
"Though they crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,"
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wadering from the Nightly air-
Tell me what they dastardly name is on the Barathrum's lair!"
Quoth the Raven, "Neverbare."


Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer had little meaning- little relevancy there
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his deserted seating-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured cherry arhced above his seating,
With such a name as "Neverbare."


But the raven, sitting lonely on the cherry arch, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul was in that one word he did share.
Nothing futher than her uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown there-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have tear."
Then the bird said, "Neverbare."


Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and fare,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmeriful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bear-
Till the durges of his Hope that melancholy burden scare
Of 'Never- neverbare'."


But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straightened I wheeled a new fresh chair in front of the bird, and arch and seating;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of dare-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of there
Meant in croaking "Neverbare."


This I sat engaged in guessing, but so syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's mare
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'there
But whose velvet lining with the lamplight gloating o'where,
She shall press, ah, never bare!


Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Hekate whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these saints he hath sent thee
Respite- respite and repenthe, from thy memories of Reilyn!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind of nepenthe and forgot this lost Reilyn!"
Quoth the Raven, "Neverbare."


"Prophet!" said I, "thing of haten!- prophet still, if bird of Satan!"
Weither Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here where-
Desloate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I dare-
Is there exempt in Caelum?- tell me- tell me, I dare!"
Quoth the Raven, "Neverbare."


"Prophet!" said I, "thing of haten- prophet still, if bord or satan!"
By that Heaven that bends above us, by that God we both stare-
Tell this soul with sorrow see, within the distant Trinity,
It shall clasp a stainted maiden who the spirits name Reilyn-
Clasp a lucid and sacred maiden who the spirits name Reilyn."
Quoth the Raven, "Neverbare."


"Be that word or sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked upstarting-
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Barathrum's lair!
Leave no ebony plume as a token of that lie they soul hath spoken!
Leave my lonliness unbroken!- quit the arch above my seating!
Take they beak from out my conscious, and take they form from off my seating!"
Quoth the Raven, "Neverbare."


And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid arch of cherry just above my empty seating;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is scheming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on there
And my woul from out that shadow that lies floating o'er where
Shall be lifted-neverbare!





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