Quoth, The Raven (Give Me More) - ScHiZm n' Lineage

There came a tapping at the window, Not a warning, not a prayer, Just two little golden eyes Watching someone who wasn't there. The man said, “Have you come to take her from me?” The Raven bowed its head. “No. Tell me who she was.” He told it how she laughed in winter, How she'd sleep against his chest, How she'd leave the hallway lantern Burning after both had slept. He spoke about the dress she favored, How her brush still missed her strands, Every word became a feather, Every memory laid it there. The Raven listened from the mantle, His eulogy pulled it close, Each sermon that he offered Made her beautiful to know “Did she love you?” “Yes, forever.” “Did she know she'd have to go?” “No.” “Tell me what you kept of her.” The man whispered, “Where do I begin...” Quoth, The Raven Give Me Lore. Give Me Mourn. Give Me More. Don't shut the door Give Me More. Give Me More, Give Me More. Tell me some more Quoth, The Raven Give Me More. Every memory at your core. Don’t close me out. Give Me More. Give Me More, Give Me More. Please, tell me nevermore. He told it how the room awoke, Curtains breathing by her bed, How she'd smile when no one watched, How the silence learned her tread. How the room outgrew them both When her breath no longer stirred, How a house can still be standing When the meaning is absurd. The Raven felt a foreign sorrow, Settling where none lived before. It knew the sound of her laughter, Though she'd never laughed for it-before. It remembered hands it hadn't held, Remembered kisses never known, And suddenly the man's lost lover Didn't feel like his alone. “Why are you crying?” Asked the man. The Raven turned away. “I don't know.” “You never knew her.” “No... But somehow... Yet I Still Mourn..” Quoth, The Raven, Give Me Lore. Give Me Mourn. Give Me More. Don't shut the door Give Me Lore. Give Me Mourn, Give Me More. Tell me some more Quoth, The Raven. Give Me More. Every memory at your core. Don’t close me out. Give Me Lore. Give Me Mourn, Give Me More. Please, tell me nevermore. Winter nested near the window, Age had settled in his stare, Still the Raven came each evening, Still he kept the old chair there. But the stories grew much softer, And the small things slipped away, Names dissolved into impressions, Faces faded year by year. Then one night the man said gently, “I've forgotten how she'd sing.” And the Raven sang the melody. The man forgot his next word. He said, “How could you remember I never played a single chord?" The Raven answered, “You gave her to me With every word.” And the man began to tremble, His hands went still, The Raven near. For the thing beside his window Had been keeping her right here. Every birthday, Every Sunday, Every story, every kiss Every careless moment He had feared he’d somehow miss. The Raven kept what he had lost Like marrow in the bone It listened to him all these years So he wouldn't have to grieve alone. Quoth, The Raven Give Me Lore. Give Me Mourn. Give Me More. Don't shut the door Give Me Lore. Give Me Mourn, Give Me More. Tell me some more Quoth, The Raven Give Me More. Every memory at your core. Don’t close me out. Give Me Lore. Give Me Mourn, Give Me More. Please, tell me nevermore. Give me the mornings. Give me the years. Give me her laughter. Give me what remains. Give me the vow She never heard: “If there are worlds beyond this one, Keep the lantern on.” Winter found the chair still empty. The Raven faced the vacant room. Beyond the glass, a voice replied, Soft enough to miss: “Nevermore.” The Raven lifted from the mantle, Bearing both of them within. From somewhere past the glass— Her voice returned: “Tell me more.”