I heard of a man
who sang a song so good
it made the angels in heaven jealous.
So I came to watch him play.
There he was, a stranger to my eyes.
A young man with a voice so soothing it
could make Hade shed a tear
and venomous eyes the color of honey
but he was no bee.
Though draped in black he resembled
The Raven perched upon a bust of
Pallas, rapping at His chamber door.
He was sitting there singing my life
with his words.
I prayed that he would finish but he
just kept on...
Kept on strumming my pain with his
fingers.
Soon I realized tears raced down my cheeks.
How can a man's song make life seem
so frightening yet so secure?
I could not tell you the song that
extracted from his lips but I prayed.
I prayed that he would finish but he
kept on...
Kept on killing me softly with his song.
