A/N: Yes, I know its and adaptation of Poe's 'the raven'. It does not belong to me, and neither does the Naruto series. If you cannot tell the difference between the original and the Naruto version, then you didn't read it.
R&R people!
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Once
upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over
many a quaint and curious scroll 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 tried to borrow
From my books
surcease of sorrow -- for the lost Fang- forevermore --
For the
strong and mysterious man whom they call the White Fang of the lost
lore --
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 darkness gave no token,
And the words there spoken was the whispered words, "Fang-no
more!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the
words, "Yes, fang is no moreā¦" --
Merely this, and nothing more.
Then into the chamber
turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon I heard again 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 the stately raven of the ANBU days of yore;
Not the
least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he;
But,
with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door --
Perched
upon a bust of Poe just above my chamber door --
he 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 he 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 ANBU raven "Nevermore."
Much
I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though
its answer little meaning -- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot
help agreeing that no sublunary being
Ever yet was blessed with
seeing ANBU bird above his chamber door --
man 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
further 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."
Quoth the ANBU raven; "Nevermore."
Wondering
at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless,"
said I, "what it utters is his only stock and store
Caught
from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast
and followed faster so when Hope he would adjure --
Stern Despair
returned, instead of the sweet Hope he dared adjure --
That sad answer, "Never -- nevermore."
But the raven still
beguiling all my sad soul 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 ANBU
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 over,
But
whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating over,
he
shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then,
me thought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Angels whose faint 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 the Fang that is no more;
Let me
quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this Fang of lost lore!"
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 ANBU 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 perverted man whom is called the Fang of lore --
Clasp
a strong and powerful man whom is called the White Fang of lore."
Quoth the ANBU raven; "Nevermore."
"Be
that word our sign in 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 ANBU 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 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!
