Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary...In there stepped a stately Raven from the saintly days of yore...
Though thy crest is shorn and shaven, thou art sure not craven, ghastly grim and ancient Raven..
Nevermore.
But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only that one word. "Nevermore."
Wretch! Thy good hath lent thee--Respite, respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Forget this lost Lenore!
Nevermore.
While the Raven spoke, on column perching, my kitty sat, on bookcase searching, and hopped on the Raven, afterwards, licking it's paws and burping. Quoth the kitty, "Delicious."
