Nevermore

Once upon a past so frightful, when the world was all but spiteful
And treated me with painful jabbing lies  - no love to sow
While I plodded, barely breathing, came a dream so unbelieving,
Though my heartbreak seemed so unending, an ending it clearly showed.
'Tis just a dream,' I muttered, venting, 'A dream from long ago.
Yes, just a dream from long ago.'

But the dream - it ceased to haunt me. Captivated, how it bound me!
For I dreamed of a hopeful, lovely life - no sorrow sown.
And on I plodded, unbelieving, though I knew twas not deceiving -
A brand new chapter I was beginning - gleaming not unlike the snow.
Said I, deeply hesitating, 'Perhaps this dream is something more.
Perhaps...indeed is something more.'

But sorrow drowned my outlook, and how deeply then my soul shook
For love to me was nothing more than a beating and a bruise.
And so I toiled trying, to prevent the heat and heart from dying
And how he tried to stop me dreaming, screaming cold abuse.
Screamed I, sorely shaken, 'Take away my life - it's just a ruse!
Just a sad and lonely ruse..'

That night I dreamed of running, fleeing heavy blows so stunning
And I came to a place where people knew me naught as pain, but Ravven.
I was so strong and overcoming - no more my self harm unbecoming
I was safe within my freedom - hidden from the brutish Craven.
Woke I feverish with slumber, 'Ravven...
In my heart I am the Ravven!'

Out I crept softly in the morning, heart palpitations pounding
The dream was real - the chains of sorrow bound to me no more!
And oh, he caught me fleeing, but I wrestled and started screaming
'You cannot have me, you will never have me, you have never - Oh!'
Quoth I, the Ravven, 'Nevermore!
I shall be free for evermore!

My wingtips blackened from the night, caught the wind and caught the light
And whisked me from the hands that wished to stake my soul.
That place became my burial site, for a brand new Ravven came to life
And when they question what my name and life is called heretofore,
I answer, 'I am Ravven, evermore.
I shall be broken nevermore!'

 

I am a huge fan of Edgar Allen Poe and the name Ravven has special meaning to me, so I thought I could honor both in the poem.

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Please take some time to check out the other blogs participating in the September challenge!

http://hangingoutandin.wordpress.com/

http://diaryofamotorhead.wordpress.com/

http://rsliwa.wordpress.com/

http://squeezingthefruit.blogspot.com/

http://heidibethbaker.weebly.com/blog/ages

Men of Might

I am the oldest of seven. The age difference between my siblings and I did not affect our relationship as I have seen with so many other large families. Rather, it brought us together and gave us a bond that no one can ever break or even begin to comprehend.

So, to begin with, there is McIntosh - Mac for short. He is the oldest after me and someone I confidently call my best friend. He is artistic, compassionate, stubborn, opinionated, caring, resolute, and a RMH (Random Motor Head). Mac has come to an age where he must find himself - or at least some footing - so that he can begin his brand new adult life. I know he struggles with many decisions and feels torn about where he should go. I hope he will always follow his heart and search deep in himself for what he needs before looking outward.

Then comes Braeburn. Dear beloved, misunderstood, longing to be loved and accepted Braeburn. He is also very artistic - he creates beautiful computer graphic pictures. He admins online for many gaming sites and is very active in the developmental field of computer gaming. His talks are intellectual, his writing is that of an old soul poet, and his heart is pure gold. He will bring you in so close and then suddenly close his heart and mentally fortify his mind. He struggles to make sense of the wrongs he has seen.

Braeburn is followed by Fortune. Fortune, I feel, is the overlooked middle child. He tries so hard to follow in the shadow of his older siblings, struggling to capture his own identity. However, a kinder soul I have yet to meet. He meets the world with quiet grace. He doesn't speak much but when he does, you would do well to listen. His eyes take in all around him. A bit of a drama king sometimes, he nonetheless offers color to his surroundings. He is at the awkward age between young adult and child - a difficult place to be waffling between childhood fancies and mature hobbies.

Now my darling JonaGold. From his birth, JonaGold and I never parted. He stole a part of my soul and I have not felt the same since my family moved away. Sarcasm should be his middle name. For a nine year old, his humor often catches me off guard but also makes me proud. He excels in his classes and is very charismatic therefor not having any trouble making friends. He is also opinionated like his elder brother Mac, and he is not afraid to let people know how he feels. He likes to learn and read and nothing thrilled me more than our long talks on the subject of wizards and dragons.

Precious Cortland. Perhaps the sweetest most loving little being that walks this earth, Cortland contains that special magic that makes you just fall in love with him. His innocence and wide eyes cause me to believe in the world again. He loves to go to school and play gameboy and is practically inseparable from his younger sister, HoneyCrisp. He enjoys playing chess and does exceptionally well for a young child. His determination to learn and grow cannot be outmatched. I know that only wonderful things await Cortland in the coming years.

And now we come to our spunky HoneyCrisp. She is loved by everyone who meets her. She will dance her way into your heart before you even know it and pretty soon you will be answering to her beck and call. I know it has been rough on her to be the only child at home when the others are off at school. She has big brown eyes and little curls in her hair. She loves music and dancing and sings with me when I play my guitar. As of late, she has become quite the little chef, making scrumptious deserts for the family to enjoy. I wish for our darling HoneyCrisp all the love and happiness that a little girl ought to have. I hope that not a day passes without her feeling safe, comfortable, and cared for.

I love them all dearly. I love them more than life. For any of them, if I could take their pain and suffering I would do it in a heart beat. As I said before, we share a bond that transcends all mistakes or differences.

And how they grow. They grow up so fast.

And I stand here and I watch them grow and I am suddenly saddened as they make plans to leave and go their own way. Not because I am disappointed in them or because they are wrong to leave, but because I miss them so much.

And I need them. I need them as surely as the air I breathe or the blood that pumps through my veins. It is a scary thing to love someone so much, to rely upon them in such a way.

I hope they always know how much their sister cares. I hope they know I am always here.

I hope they know how much I love them. 

That will never change.

My men of might.

May the Frets be with you.

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Please take some time to check out the other blogs participating in the September challenge!

http://hangingoutandin.wordpress.com/

http://diaryofamotorhead.wordpress.com/

http://rsliwa.wordpress.com/

http://squeezingthefruit.blogspot.com/

http://heidibethbaker.weebly.com/blog/ages