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FIREBELL

Ah distinctly I remember
It was in the bleak December
And each dying ember
Wrought its ghost upon the floor

Eagerly I wished the morrow
Vainly I had sought to borrow
Surcease from the sorrow
And a pop screen for yon fire

Now the flames are climbing higher
Oh the consumption of the fire
On the floor a great bright pyre
Blackening ever more and more

Ah surcease from sorrow
Sorrow for the lost Lenore
Sorrow for not buying more
A GPS and a map for sure

As I nodded nearly napping
Suddenly there came a tapping
As if someone gently rapping
Rapping at my chamber door

Over the black and charred remains
Looking for someone yet to blame
Thinking of the burning pain
I stumbled to the sooty door

Face was known throughout the land
Cowbell shining in his hand
His demeanor as usual bland
I saw his sunken eyes expand

I pled help me find the lost Lenore
Yes to you I do implore
Money, jewels and much more
To take on this grievous chore

Ah His voice it never rose
As he leaned in so close
Fireman’s badge striking a pose
He rose toward my yearning ear

Came the tintinnabulation through the door…

quoth the Walken…NEVERMORE!