the heavens above us

a ghost is someone who either hasent concluded they are dead yet, or was extremely extremely worried about death (like they would get sent to hell or they were just soooo scared it sucked their spirit out)
they walk along the ground. they are not in heaven yet, they are stuck in between. how horrible for them
Sometimes they have to be told ‘You’re dead! Its ok! Go home!’
Spirits float above us, they have passed, and are on the other dimension… so in this other dimension heaven is about 3 ft above us… so spirits are above us, and ghosts with us. Heaven isnt in the sky, its just on another vibration, much closer than we can ever think

People are too kind. They let sympathy make choices for them, but no ones wants pity from a stranger. If I was them, I wouldn’t try to change the world, because as much as you try to bring everyone together, it will never work. The world is too harsh for little humans that carry their hearts on their hands and have their mind affected by the false hope of the heaven above us.
—  1-04-09-11 

So this fic is going to be loosely based around the Rapunzel fairy tale. I once read a Loki/Reader fanfiction based on Beauty and the Beast and it still is - even today - one of my favourite fanfictions. I’m doing a similar thing and basing my work on a fairytale, whilst incorporating a similar relationship dynamic as seen in Beauty and the Beast. Overall it’s a big fairytale mashup with everyone’s favourite little shit as the damsel in distress. I really hope you guys enjoy it! Please leave feedback. I appreciate any and all comments. Enjoy, my darlings!

‘The Tower’ (Part 1)

Once upon a time, in a long-forgotten part of a long-forgotten forest, a swaying stretch of grass – once untarnished and lush – had been corrupted by a great, gleaming monument. Where once the soil was warmed by the sun, ice as cold as the night lay in the cracks of the wounded earth, stretching up to the sky and culminating in a pointed tip.

At the centre of this secluded glade sat a tall and ominous tower…

Keep reading

DESTIEL DRABBLE

(It’s been a craptastic week. I’ve been crying all day and this popped out all on its own. Cheered me up a little…It’s not graphic. Just insinuates.)

It’s forbidden….Oldest law in Heaven…..They’re primates…..We are above them Castiel…..You have to choose. Us or them…….


Castiel heard these memories of old voices in his head like a distant hiss in his ears even as his bare skin slid against the “primate” beneath him. He admired the slight dusting of freckles along his humans chest even as he remembered his oath to protect, serve, but to never touch…but oh does he touch.

 He shuddered as he felt the slightly calloused fingertips slide up his spine, making his senses tingle. He remembered Uriel calling them mud monkeys…Even now he felt a flash of red anger in his mind at the slur. His precious, precious humans reduced to such an distasteful phrase. Oh if Uriel only knew…felt things the way Castiel had begun to. 


Cas knew he was different from the other Angels. He always had been…but he knew he was not the first to discover the sins of the flesh….Dean really hated when he called it that, though. 


“Could you be any less romantic?” Cas remembered him huffing out indignantly the first, and last, time he’d used the phrase.


Castiel remembered every memory with Dean they’d ever made together….but that night…oh that one was forever etched upon the insides of his mind. He remembered the way they’d fallen together against the interior side of Dean’s bedroom door after coming back bloodied and bruised from battle. Even as the words of his former family whispered in his ears his mouth had seemed to take it upon itself to trace the line of Dean’s jaw. He remembered the feel of Dean’s warm breath against his cheek, panting with excitement and fear. 


“Cas….you here with me?” Dean whispered out as he ran his hands upon his naked chest, dragging him back to the pleasantries of the here and now. 


“My apologies, Dean. My thoughts wander on occasion…” Castiel breathed out as Dean’s mouth found his nipple. 


“I think I’m offended. Am I boring you, Angel…I guess I could go and leave you to your thoughts…” Dean grumbled playfully as he feigned getting off the bed. Castiel leaned over him, making Dean press his back into the comforter. Cas propped himself up with a hand on both sides of Dean’s head and looked down at him, his startingly blue eyes gazing upon him with pure adoration. 


“My thoughts are only consumed with you, Dean,” Castiel whispered softly as he placed a chaste kiss along Dean’s cheek. 


Dean grinned softly, one side of his face pulling up in slight embarrassment. “Liar, but it’s a good one…” He slid his hand up to cup Cas’ neck, his fingers playing softly along the feathery soft hair at the nape of his neck. He pulled him down to join their lips together, 

Angel and human melded into one. One heat. One moment. One thought. The voices inside Cas’ busy mind were once again drowned out by the slide of Dean beneath him. They were drowned out by the very human feelings of love and affection that Angels weren’t supposed to feel…but Castiel had never been a very good Angel according to Heaven’s standards…and oh was he going to be a very bad one now….

Finding you was an absolute miracle. You are the star I wished upon so many years ago. You came from the heavens above to build your path to me. The two of us went through countless trials and errors to be with one another. Oh, this love for you is so deep, it seems I have loved you for many lifetimes. Our eyes are the gateways to our past. I have revealed my true self to you. The real me. It is now our time to walk this earth as one.
—  gabbybaby17 (As One)

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
   While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
           Only this and nothing more.”

   Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
   Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
   From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
           Nameless here for evermore.

   And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
   So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
   “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
           This it is and nothing more.”

   Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
   But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
   And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
           Darkness there and nothing more.

   Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
   But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
   And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
           Merely this and nothing more.

   Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
   “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
     Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
           ’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

   Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
   Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
   But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
           Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
           Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

   Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
   For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
   Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
           With such name as “Nevermore.”

   But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
   Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
   Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
           Then the bird said “Nevermore.”

   Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
   Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
   Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
           Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”

   But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
   Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
   Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
           Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

   This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
   This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
   On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
           She shall press, ah, nevermore!

   Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
   “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
   Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
           Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

   “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
   Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
   On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
           Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

   “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
   Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
   It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
           Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

   “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
   Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
   Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
           Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

   And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
   And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
   And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
           Shall be lifted—nevermore!

Mc Proposes to RFA +v&Saeran

Jumin:

(My mom used this during christmas as presents instead)
-After a recent party, MC put together a nice dinner at a Chinese restaurant to commemorate.
-as everyone was talking, 5 dishes of large fortune cookies drizzled in chocolate and caramel came along with one silver one
-When he opened his vertically, a paper with the words scrawled, “Will you marry me?” Was displayed
-Each of the others began breaking into theirs and they find Yoosung is the ring bearer, V and Jaehee are the maid/matron of honor, and the rest are groomsmen. Yes Zen too, they can put their bickering aside for a bit
-Applause as MC slips on Jumin’s ring
-Jumin so happy, Elizabeth will have her own celebration so Zen can actually attend te wedding

Saeran:

(I want to do this)
-Mc painted a building to propose.
-Across the street of their favorite ice cream shop mc had asked the owners of the building if a design (either made or hired) could be put up so they could propose
- A design of a girl taking the color from rainbow clouds to paint her ice cream monsters.
-Luckily there was a big sheet that covered so no one knew what was going to happen
-Mc took him to the unveiling of the art and as they moved the drape, you kneeled down right where it said, “Please be my eternal life partner” above mc’s head.
-his ring was put on soon after and many pictures were taken
-BOUNUS: ya’ll got ice cream for free

Jihyun Kim/V:

-He wakes up to find you gone and a note book instead in your place
-“You’ve Enchanted Me” was scrawled on top
-as he looked through, there were pictures of both him and you over the years and numbered reasons on why he was amazing
-All The Way To The End
-At the last page it says, “Will you enchant me every day for the rest of our lives?”
-You were secretly waiting and as he flipped to that last page, you come in with breakfast and a tiny stuffed otter holding the ring on the tray
-Just super happy about everything as you slip on the ring

Saeyoung:

-He had already asked you and you were going to return the favor and propose to him
-you guys went to Jaehee’s cafe bc happy endings for everyone
-Deciding to do a puzzle while you were there and Jaehee would hang it on a shelf
-No pictures for reference
-He struggled slightly but finished it pretty fast
-“Will you marry me?” It said in Arabic, as it had doodles all around
-He was laughing as you got down on one knee, “i already proposed to you, you dork”
-“So that’s a yes?”
-The puzzle was framed and placed on one of Jaehee’s shelves along with a picture of you two

Zen
-You made those lucky stars but like, BiGGer!
-“will you marry me?” Was written, one word per star
-Cutting a hole on the bottom you made them into lanterns
-His favorite flowers petals were decorating around the stars
-When he came home from rehearsals that day all of the lights were off and he is met with the 4 glowing stars and you holding a ring while on one knee.
-oh m g he’s happy he wasn’t coming home late.
-“Zen, my stars and light that guides me far, no one can ever really know how lucky they are. I think I have an idea though, will you marry me so everyone will know?”
-Success!
-You play songs as you two dance the night away

Jaehee:

(i want to do this so bad too)
-It was Halloween and you used a plate
-“Neither the angels in heaven above nor the demons down under the sea could ever dissever my soul from the soul of the beautiful Jaehee”
-Twist to a poem scrawled across her plate as she ate a piece of cake you made.
-You had her read it out loud and when she was done she smiled at you only to see you on one knee, holding a ring
-“Jaehee, will you marry me?”
-The plate was later displayed in her cafe

Yoosung:

-locked room scenario
-Save the girl by finding keys to get to her before the bad guy can. Time: 1 Hour
-You send him everywhere with clues and a key to unclock the next part. He gets to the end where a note is stashed inside of a locked chest that was inside of a safe
-He almost yelled because it was another note
-he read it while holding the key, “turn around.”
-There you are holding the ring for him, “Yoosung, you’re already more than my hero, so will you unlock the next stage?”
-Videogame reference too
-When he says yes, the door opens
-Would have opened anyways tho bc time had ran out

i just find it funny how

my mutuals are literal angels sent down from the heavens above 2 bless us all w their internal and external beauty…🐸☕️

anonymous asked:

The Magica/Gladstone pic is from one of the Polish "Gigant" books. The original appears to be called "Amelia & Gastone e la fortuna di troppo", was written by Antonella Pandini, drawn by Alessandro Gottardo, and was originally published in 1998. Haven't read the story myself, but just fyi, cause by lorde and heavens above, you made me fall for that pairing (please give us more !).

I love you for telling me this and sorry I am not sorry for doing that to you (and don’t you worry I will)

anonymous asked:

So, the JSA. Best as Kal's contemporaries, mentors, distant predecessors?

I know I’ve mentioned this before in passing, but it bears repeating. DC has made mistakes over the years with individual parts of reboots: with Superman, or with Wonder Woman, or even with wiping a whole narrative device like the multiverse off the table. But in terms of cracking the foundations that the entirety of the shared universe is built on? Nothing but nothing even approaches what an awful, awful idea it was to make the JSA exist on the main Earth publicly preceding the Justice League by decades.

Now look, I like…well, okay, I basically just like Jay Garrick and Ted Knight, and kind of Wildcat since my roommate thinks he’s fun, but the JSA are a perfectly decent superhero team, with enough fun characters and solid narrative hooks that they absolutely merit reasonably continuous publication. If nothing else they’re genuinely historically significant to the genre, and really the medium and pop culture as a whole. But they are not as important as Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman. They were not built to hold that kind of weight. If they were, they’d be the ones in the movies.

Just on that basic note before going into the universe as a whole: unless you’re going to majorly age up the Trinity, you’re putting the JSA as the Original Superheroes ahead of the actual original superheroes. Superman’s indisputably the guy, but once you throw in the JSA as publicly existing before him, that stops. He might still be the greatest and the example everyone ends up following, but if there were dozens upon dozens of superheroes before him, he isn’t exactly the most important thing that’s ever happened anymore. Him saving a spaceplane or Lois falling out of a helicopter of whatever goes from “Jesus Christ in Heaven above us! A hero from the sky with the strength of a million men who walks on air and kindles fire with a glance! Salvation, salvation! Truly, brothers and sisters, an age of miracles and wonders as come unto us all as gods walk the Earth!” to “Flying guy, neat! Been awhile. Did Hawkman have a kid that doesn’t need wings or something? Ooh, this guy has lasers, cool!” Much as I love him, I do not buy that the world would profoundly venerate Superman to borderline-savior status when there have already been 40 or so nice flying guys in capes before him in living memory. On the main Earth, the JSA is a ‘legacy’ that removes the in-universe significance of what they themselves are all in fact the legacy of. They reduce everything by being ‘the originals’ in a world where they’re not actually the originals. Hell, the entire reason any of this happened in the first place is because they weren’t as good as Superman, Batman, or Wonder Woman; they were cancelled because they couldn’t hang in there through the end of the Golden Age the way the big three could, but for some reason they get to have this scene:

If there was an atom of sense in this world, the follow-up to that moment wouldn’t be Alan Scott going “I have an idea.” It’d be Ted Grant with “Guys, guys, I’m flattered as I’ve ever been in my life. Seriously, you have no idea. But, uh, I’m a nonagenarian ex-boxer in a leather fetish cat outfit, and you’re fucking Superman, what are you even talking about? Is this a Red Kryptonite thing?” Seriously try and make the argument that this is a scene that should be permitted in any version of the DCU. I would sincerely love to know how that train of thought goes.

Even moving past those three, the entire post-Crisis premise of the Justice Society is that they’re the big guns in a world where they may never, ever be permitted to actually be the big guns, but we all have to collectively pretend they’re still important anyway. Yes, they’ve had plenty of good comics to their name, and nothing can undo that. But they’re not the superhero team of their world - that’s the Justice League. Great as he is, in the eyes of the world Jay Garrick isn’t The Original Flash, he’s the Old Flash or the Other Flash if he exists at all, objectively no longer the most important bearer of his own name. So you end up in a position where you get two teams: the original heroes, and the current guys. The current guys are the big, vital ones with the iconic characters who show up in the comics and movies, but aren’t the original, primal heroes, just the current generation. But that puts a team that’s been presented as secondary for decades in the roles of being the originals, the platonic champions by which the heroes we read about every month are measured against, and they just can’t live up to that, because if they could, why would the Justice League even be around? Why don’t these guys fight any of the cool villains, or have Batman, or lack a need to justify their presence the way the League does? Again, the reason the Justice League exists at all is because the JSA wasn’t able to survive, with the League being made up of the actually successful characters from that era, and revamps of the originals that went on to tremendously greater success on absolutely all fronts. And the idea that they should be narratively ‘rewarded’ for that by everyone pretending they’re anywhere near as important as Superman or Batman is flatly ridiculous.

They’re not allowed to be the leads of their universe, and it diminishes everyone involved, making the originals unable to live up to their own hype, and the main guys are presented as not being fully the icons they actually are. It’d maybe be less of a problem if the JL were clearly the direct successors of the JSA - then you’d get something out of them being around in terms of their existence stitching something positive into the fabric of the universe - but outside of Green Lantern and Flash (the former of whom has no connection to his modern counterpart, the latter of whom was just a guy who incidentally went through the same accident as the modern guy for the first decadeish of the setup of them existing in the same world), the legacy of the JSA is limited to the JSA itself. It is its own little corner of things just as much as it ever was on Earth 2, but now it upsets the fabric of the main guys.

Now that I’ve crapped all over them, I gotta say I do think they still need to be around for the reasons I said at the beginning, just either on Earth 2 or radically altered. On Earth 2, they can be the head of the table in the way they were built to be, with their elder statesmen Wonder Woman and Green Lantern and Superman and whatnot, and current guys directly descended from them who are Earth’s new Greatest Heroes but still walk in their footsteps. They can still cross over with the Justice League guys plenty just like they used to, with the two truly on equal terms (and on that note, Barry Allen being inspired by Jay Garrick is so much better when he’s from another world. It’s the difference between me being a fan of a celebrity, growing up to become a celebrity myself, and then meeting them, and becoming real-life Superman, then travelling to another universe to learn Superman is real and then we team up). Or, if you want them in the main world, make them a secret group like on Smallville, or the society of pulp heroes in the first issue of Planetary. It gives them mystique and importance and ties them even more directly into the development of the superhero as a concept by hearkening back to the 20s/30s characters they were inspired by, while maintaining the place of Superman as the first superhero, and of the lead characters of the DCU as the actual most important characters in it.

God's Marvels: Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2

            The breakout star of the movie Guardians of the Galaxy: Vol. 2 was thought to be the dancing sensation of Baby Groot, but I would argue that it was someone else. For me, the star of this movie was the Yondu, the blue-skinned alien who made a name for himself as part of the space-pirating group, the Ravagers. However, before you can understand why it is Yondu that ties this film together, you have to understand the bigger theme of the movie.

            This film is all about family and heritage. Peter Quill, the leader of the Guardians, doesn’t know who his real father is. He comes to find out that it is a man (if you can call him that) named Ego, and although Peter is infatuated with the man at first, he comes to find out that Ego isn’t who Peter thought he was.

            Humans have a Father in Heaven, God, but we don’t often turn to Him as a father. We run to other things for comfort, help, and support. When you are struggling to make ends meet, do you frantically check your bank account or pray to God for your “daily bread”? When you’ve had a really tough day and need a pick-me-up, do you remember the love and promises of God, or do you turn to vices like drugs and alcohol? You may say, “Not me,” and think your better than others, but there are other things you can rely on above God, the compliments of people or the pleasures of the world. We, sadly, often claim all of these things above the Father in Heaven who made us, and like Ego and Peter, we quickly find out that they let us down. The money runs out, the bottle becomes empty, and the people who we might have once called friends may leave us. We are left feeling empty and missing something.

            In the film, Peter had another father figure, the Ravager Yondu, who raised him. Although Yondu is not perfect (I mean he did kind of abduct Peter off the Earth), he provides for Peter’s needs, feeding him, clothing him, and teaching him what he needed to know to live the life of a space pirate. In the final battle of this movie, faced with only one spacesuit, Yondu chooses to give it to Peter, and sacrifices himself so that his “child” may live. It is an act that not only saved Peter Quill’s life, but redeems all the bad in Yondu’s past.

            The only difference between this story and reality is that it is us, not our father that has faults. But the solution of sacrifice is the same, and while we can’t sacrifice enough to make up for our sins and errors, God can. So he sent Jesus, the perfect sacrifice, into the world to die on the cross. It is God our Father who loved us enough to sacrifice for us. He is our true dad.

            At the end of the film, Peter Quill recognizes Yondu as his true dad, though not by DNA. The same can be said of Jesus. When He came to Earth, not many people recognized Him for who He was, the Son of God, redeemer of the world, but through His sacrifice we are welcomed back into His family, rectified and made right with God the Father.

The Raven
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
   While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
           Only this and nothing more.”

   Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
   Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
   From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
           Nameless here for evermore.

   And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
   So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
   “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
           This it is and nothing more.”

   Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
   But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
   And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
           Darkness there and nothing more.

   Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
   But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
   And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
           Merely this and nothing more.

   Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
   “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
     Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
           ’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

   Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
   Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
   But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
           Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
           Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

   Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
   For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
   Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
           With such name as “Nevermore.”

   But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
   Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
   Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
           Then the bird said “Nevermore.”

   Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
   Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
   Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
           Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”

   But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
   Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
   Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
           Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

   This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
   This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
   On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
           She shall press, ah, nevermore!

   Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
   “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
   Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
           Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

   “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
   Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
   On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
           Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

   “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
   Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
   It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
           Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

   “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
   Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
   Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
           Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

   And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
   And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
   And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
           Shall be lifted—nevermore!

—  Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven and Other Poems