The Vulture 1.0

This poet has always been thrown into fascination about Edgar Allan Poe's "The raven"



His interest lied on the dark skulls of how each word burnt his skin and how every punctuation mark kissed his soul with joy.
He believed that, that poem was perfection and a stream of hope to which inspiration sprung from. But;
Be always not happy about what you take delight in reading since one day, you may end up being the lead character.
To which one day he became that it threw him to the rooms of madness that for a long time he was unable to talk about it.
When everyone gathered around and asked him why, he said to them.


"There is no use in telling you of a bird -- of a vulture -- with whom there is never a sigh of peace."
So horrific that he could only put it in writing.


Now this is his story;
It was nameless;
it flew and circled him with skin so pale and close to death, it stood on his head.
There, he remembered a line from the raven "Dreaming dreams no mortal has ever dreamed before."
And so he did, trying to assure himself that this bird -- this vulture -- will flap its wings and begone when he claps.

But nevermore, it didn't, it seemed fearless and was destined to pursue an action he had no idea of.
And so he stood still "Dreaming dreams no mortal has ever dreamt before."
He pushed the bird -- the vulture -- off his head but it came again like the dark clouds and stood on his head like it had done before.
Having read "The Raven" he knew it would be useless trying to have a conversation with a bird who now seemed a fiend.

With every step he took, this bird looked down at him as if he was a thing of amusement.

But this poet was no fool and he knew that he would wake up from this dream and this bird will be left in dreamland, only to be seen nevermore.
But after circling his room, the vulture started a conversation with him.


"Ratadame, would you not ask me why I am here?"


The bird speaks!
Clearly this could not be mistaken!


But he, destined not to speak ignored this bird and tried to take a seat on his chair of heartbreak.


Now, this chair as he had loved always reminded him of life, love, lust... And of how his hopes of flying like a bird without a cage had been broken like his heart.
Hence its name "Chair of Heartbreak" was apt.


But this bird, so it seems, knowing more than he did retort,
"Would you still not ask me any question?"
Then he grew angrier and shouted.



"Begone! You master of evil!"
 But this vulture stood and laughed, mocking him and reducing him to shame; still he would not stand to be intimidated by a bird.
"Ratadame, would you ask me of where I came from?"


Still awkward silence! With his talons, he hit it on the head so hard.


"You infernal creature, what do you want?"


"I want to tell you of my story" he replied "Would you listen?"
Awkward silence yet again .



TO BE CONTINUED