вЂњThough thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,вЂќ I said, вЂњart sure no craven, Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,Д«y the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door. Not the least obeisance made he not a minute stopped or stayed he Д«ut, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door. In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore. Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore. вЂњSurely,вЂќ said I, вЂњsurely that is something at my window lattice Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, вЂњLenore!вЂќ-Д«ack into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, That I scarce was sure I heard youвЂќ-here I opened wide the door -Дeep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,Дoubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before Д«ut the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,ДЄnd the only word there spoken was the whispered word, вЂњLenore?вЂќ вЂњSir,вЂќ said I, вЂњor Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore Д«ut the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,ДЄnd so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, Presently my soul grew stronger hesitating then no longer, Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door. вЂњвЂ™Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door. So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating Thrilled me-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before вЂњвЂ™Tis some visitor,вЂќ I muttered, вЂњtapping at my chamber door-ДЄh, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December ДЄnd each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.Д®agerly I wished the morrow -vainly I had sought to borrowДЇrom my books surcease of sorrow-sorrow for the lost Lenore-ДЇor the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-ДЄnd the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,ДЄs of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore. Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Poe has produced a wonderful piece of work that resonates with the feelings and experiences of every reader that comes across this poem. These battles are not physical, but leave scarring and bruising just as if they were.

вЂ The RavenвЂ™ explores the world of emotional wars that individuals face in all walks of life specifically, the fight one can never ignore, the fight of control over the emotions of grief and loss. вЂ The RavenвЂ personifies the feeling of intense grief and loss, while other symbols throughout the poem reinforce a melodramatic mood that emphasizes the main characterвЂ™s grief and loss. This popular narrative poem is written in the first person.

The raven scansion