Love conquers all...
I conquered mine...
He's in the trunk right now...
Every night I lay in bed awake,
Staring out the window at the shimmering lake,
Dreaming about a time before,
When happiness was what this house meant for,
But now it seems all I do every night,
Is pray and plead with all my might,
For just this once let me rest my weary sight,
Please baby, please not tonight.
But she never seems to hear my pleas,
My begs for mercy do not please,
Every night she cries and wails,
It pierces my heart, my face still pales,
I sit up tired, a tortured soul with a stain,
Her screams hurt me more than my wife's disdain,
I envy how my wife sleeps and never stirs,
Our baby's cries she never hears,
All I ever see now is her back turned to me,
Her smile I miss so much to see,
Since the day she began to blame this on me,
I cannot tell her how much more sorry I can be,
I drag my feet carrying a heavy soul,
An empty crib reminds me of what life has stole,
Her cries still echo in the empty darkness,
Driving me slowly into a sleepless madness,
Reminding me every night,
If only I had held her hand more tight,
Maybe, just maybe, she would be with me tonight,
Instead of the watery grave before my sight,
Rest in peace just this one night,
Please baby, please don't cry tonight.
-- Karan Iyer
Rumbling and grumbling came the sound of thunder outside,
Chiming in with the laughter from the television inside,
How intriguing it is what the rains mean to many,
For some cherish the chill — And some get chilled scary.
But this night is for those who feel the latter,
For inside the house of Dr. Asrani, something is of the matter,
With both feet stretched out, she lays in her chair,
Snickering at the Tele with an unflickering stare.
Though it may not be odd to the casual observer,
For it’s just an old lady enjoying what the Tele has to offer,
No one passing by the window would give a second glance,
Unless that is they notice the revolver by chance.
But there is no one passing by, nobody to see,
Laying there on the floor was what Dr. Asrani used to be.
Three days would pass before the knock on the door,
The rains would be gone and horror would be in store,
Giggling and smiling she would come outside,
With three people in uniform standing beside,
She’d say it was funny, did you see?
Oh, how funny that Joey Tribbiani can be!
She watched her favorite sitcoms day after day,
Not minding a bit the stink of rotting decay,
Why did she do it, what would possess her?
She was a god fearing person, was the devil inside her?
All would ask, but none would know,
What happened that ill-fated night behind that closed door,
The secret of Mrs. Asrani remains a secret for sure,
For god doesn’t know what the devil has in store.
-- Karan Iyer - A tribute to the Raven (Edgar Allan Poe)