Ghosts are amidst the murk in which I cannot see. A peculiar door way opens inside of me. Listen to the music playing, hear the voice, of beautiful Lenore. Sing to me a violent ballad of love. I hear the hauntings in my psyche of words, reality fights me, as I follow to the window.
Eyes peer in and graves freshly dug falter under the rain.
The drops wash away the footprints made by another lover-Berenice. The shadow precedes the body in the candle lit hall, I see, underneath my door. I'm not the beloved of Berenice. Cracking, creaking, stopping time- stands a man in the light. Of course, he can not be in my head.