Through shadowy veils of my mournful mind is the vastness of iridescent stars, their hopeful light does not comfort me. The very thought of not being in the treasure of your presence awakens the dulling grief of my heart's loneliness. The unkind ravens have alighted on my cold sill, perching in their misery of silence. Such avian moroseness to be as black as eve's unyielding darkness, the onyx of their eyes in a deathly watch, their dirge unsung. Falling, falling, falling from the heady spell of after-midnight's witchery. Death's sudden arrival, his rattling and frosty breath chills my very e