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Nevermore

Darkness stole what light was left, while I paid mind with mind once deft,
To this sweet and seeming child sitting, playing on the floor.
Seldom was her small voice heard, yet suddenly she spoke a word,
Which my attention it had lured, and I cast my gaze upon the floor.
"What was that, my dear," I queried, "what was it you said before?"
She looked at me, yet never spoke, my dear Aeolior.

I stared at her, I now remember, by that word my thoughts dismembered,
Yet I stared into those eyes like embers, yet she would not say what she had before.
How I willed the sun appear, to banish all my curious fear,
And force the shadow disappear, disappear, and spare 'Lior.
The ember-eyed and dark hair girl whom I had named 'Lior.
Yet here she's still Aeolior.

Her tiny smile, though uncertain, never broken that ember curtain
Veiled her---hid her eyes from me as never they had before;
So now, to still the frantic beating of my heart, I sat repeating,
"What was it you said, with word so fleeting, what was it you said before?
What was it with word so fleeting that you said before?
What was it, Aeolior?"

As I stared my thoughts were feigned, yet suddenly they were attained,
"Dear," said I, "Daughter, please answer, I implore.
I know that you have spoken, and your silence now is broken,
And if only I'd some token, token as to what you'd said before.
You know I did not hear you." Now I sat upon the floor---
She smiled still, but nothing more.

Long now, the silence went, I sat there still, my hope now spent,
For now I knew there'd be no word from my Aeolior;
With her silence now again unbroken, the silence which would give no token,
Not a hint of what she'd spoken, the little whispered word,
" 'Lior?", That which I had uttered, returned to me by echo the word," 'Lior!"
Only that, and nothing more.

Back onto my perch I turned, while all my heart began to burn,
And then again she'd spoken, still as softly as before,
"I know there is something you want to tell me.
Speak again, now, what you'd said, and your soul to me outpour.
Let me hear that which you said, and your heart to me outpour.
She turned to me, but spoke no more.

Then she rose, began to mutter, and with tiny flame and flutter,
Unfurled her wings ablaze, while tiny drops alit the floor.
Not the slightest sound made she; not a twich or motion made she;
But with eyes as veiled as ever, sat back down upon the floor.
Sat where she'd been, just beyond me upon the floor,
Sat, and watched, and nothing more.

Then she smiled full and well and it now it seemed that she would tell,
Finally to me reveal the secret of her spoken lore,
"Are you ready now my dear, to reveal such words as they appear,
Spoken quickly, softly here, repeat it now, just once more.
Tell me please what you have spoken, please my dear, once more.
Spoke the child, "Nevermore."

How could she have said so plainly that which I now found ungainly,
She was still a little child, though little meaning her word bore,
Yet I could not help in seeing the fire in her tiny being
Could not my mind stop from agreeing that there'd be something more.
Child or rogue still sitting there upon the floor,
Watching me, and something more.

Still there she sat, watching only, and though by I did grow lonely
Having her not speak to me, as though I was nothing more.
Not another move she made: not a hint of speaking gave,
Then I barely more than whispered, "What is it you have in store?
Soon I know that you will leave me, just as you have done before."
She spoke again, "Nevermore."

She sought to mend a heart still broken, but with word so aptly spoken,
I could not bring myself to say how much she meant to me and more.
And still she watched me with veiled eyes, that look to then which I despise
That said lied and still she lies, this little demon upon the floor--
Till she'd gotten what she wanted, my child on the floor,
The mystery of her 'nevermore'.

Still she smiled full and well, seemed to promise she would tell,
And I forsook my seat to sit with her upon the floor.
The beside her I sat thinking, all my thought within me linking
Idea upon idea about the things she'd said before--
What this quickly, softly spoken child could have meant before
Why it was she gave her "Nevermore".

Thus I sat consumed in guessing, with no word by me expressing
Just how strange and strong her word had struck me at the core;
This I saw with curious thought, and worked to break the chains she'd wrought
Round and round me while I workedand worked at what she sought,
Those strange and odd dreamings which she sought
Though to me she'd speak them nevermore.

Then, I thought, the room grew tighter, the shadows fading, growing lighter
As though at last my wish was granted as they receded 'cross the floor.
"Nymph!" I sang, "I bid you answer me--by this silence now be broken
Tell my why that word you've spoken, why one word Aeolior!?
Speak, speak and tell me why just this word Aeolior!
She looked at me, "Nevermore."

"Nymph!" I cried, "answer me!--Child still, if nymph you be!
Whether there is meaning, or something else to what you said before,
Speak to me now undaunted, reveal to me why you have haunted--
Cursed and plagued our home still haunted--tell me why you spoke before:
Is there--is there something--tell me--tell me, I implore!"
Her head she shook, "Nevermore."

"Nymph!" I cried, "answer me!--Child still, if nymph you be!
By the light that grows around us--sweet child please, yourself restore--
Are not you now child still, if, were it to be your will,
Become again that daughter which I fondly call 'Lior?
That sweet and seeming little child whom I fondly call 'Lior?
She spoke again, "Nevermore."

"Be that last of that word you say!" I glared at her and turned away--
"If you wont tell me what you mean by all this repeting, then speak no more!
Have your silence again unbroken, have that word which you have spoken!
Leave me now without that token--sit there silently upon the floor!
Take your gaze from off my form, and speak not that word there on the floor!
She said again, "Nevermore."

I sat there staring, and she was sitting, still was sitting
In her little spot upon the wooden floor;
And her eyes have all the seeming of child's sweetly dreaming.
Shadows in again came streaming--the flames cast her shadow upon the floor;
And the sweet girl that used to sit and play upon that floor
Shall return---nevermore...