In the chamber, dimly lit, Where shadows dance and spirits flit, I sit alone, my soul aflame, Entangled in a macabre game.
The midnight hour, it tolls its chime, A dirge that marks the end of time, And in this cryptic, eerie space, I find myself in a dark embrace.
A raven perched upon the door, Its ebony plumes, a cloak it wore, It spoke of omens, dread and dire, And set my heart and soul on fire.
The flickering candle's feeble light, Casts eerie shapes into the night, And whispers from the crypts below, Haunt my thoughts with tales of woe.
A portrait on the wall, so fair, A visage twisted by despair, Its eyes, they follow as I roam, In this unholy, haunted home.
The pendulum swings, a deadly blade, A specter of death, an ominous shade, It counts the moments, one by one, As my existence comes undone.
In this gothic, somber room, I'm trapped in sorrow, grief, and gloom, Like Poe of old, I too descend, Into the darkness, without end.
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