The Reiven
The poem based on The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe, altered for Kai being the narrator witnessing 'the Reiven' after Rei dies form his injuries at the World Championships.Unlikely, but hey, it's my story.
Rei: Awwww… do I have to die?
Kai: Hmph. Does it make a difference?
Gatem: Yes it does, because Lenore was dead and to make it more realistic, Rei has to be dead, get it?
Kai: Hmph. Whatever.
Rei: Lenore was dead? I thought he was all sad because she dumped him in front of everyone or something…
Gatem: Well she died sooner or later, and…..hey! were straying from the fanfic at hand here! Kai! Do the honors, please.
Kai: Rei, do the disclaimer….we all know she's to poor to own anything anyway…
Gatem: I'll let that one slide…
Rei: Enough! Disclaimer: She does not own The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe, nor does she own Beyblade. Happy?
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary
Over many quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As if someone gently blading, blading at my chamber door—
"'Tis some blader," I muttered, "seeking to challenge me—
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 Rei—
For the rare and radiant neko-jin whom angels name Rei—
Nameless here forevermore.
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 blader seeking a battle at my chamber door—
Some late blader seeking a battle at my chamber door—
That 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 quietly you launched your blade,
And so faintly you came blading, blading at my chamber door,
That I was scarce 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 dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Rei?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word "Rei!"—
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into my chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that blade or blader is 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 Reiven with its amber eyes 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 fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Thoughyour crest be shown and shiny, true," I said, "you are no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Reiven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonium shore!"
Quoth the Reiven, "Nevermore."
Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though it's 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 a name as "Nevermore."
But the Reiven, 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."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
Startled by 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 Reiven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I leaned and sat on my bed 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, those fiery amber eyes now burned into my heart's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my back at ease reclining
On the palms of my hands on velvet that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
He shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed by an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "the God has lent you—by these angels he has sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Rei!
Quaff, oh, quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Rei!"
Quoth the Reiven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" I cried, "thing of evil—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossedyou 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 Reiven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "Thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By the 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 neko-jin whom angels name Rei—
Clasp a rare and radiant neko-jin whom the angels name Rei."
Quoth the Reiven, "Nevermore."
"Be that word our sing of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting—
"Get thee back into the tempest and Night's Plutonium shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lieyour soul has spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and takeyour form from off my door!"
Quoth the Reiven, "Nevermore."
And the Reiven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his amber eyes have all the seeming of a neko-jin's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul within that shadow that lies floating on the floor.
Shall be lifted—nevermore!
Gatem: RR!
Kai:Or else she'll start crying.
Gatem: No I won't! Shut up, Kai
Rei: I'm sure everyone will review, so stop fighting. You never know, the Raven might actually appear...
Gatem: Yeah, and it'll come after Mr. Sourpuss first.
Kai: Humph. Whatever.
