Nevermore Poem Novels & Stories

If it were before, she would have gone to argue with Sean, to make him understand right from wrong. But now, she had completely given up on him. Sharon comforted her son, then picked up the shredded pieces of the stuffed animal, trying to fix it. But after stabbing her fingers multiple times, which drew blood, she ended up with nothing but a pile of fabric scraps. Looking at her wounded hands, she suddenly remembered what her mother had told her before she passed away, tears in her eyes as she held Sharon's hand. "I'm not afraid of dying... I'm only afraid that after I'm gone, no one will protect you and James."

Bleiz’s POV I held the farewell letter Nancy left behind and read it again and again. I recognize every word, but I can’t understand the meaning. The paper trembles between my fingers, making a soft rustling sound. A sudden, uncontrollable, metallic sweetness surged in my throat, and the world before my eyes abruptly began to twist and spin, colors peeling away, and sounds fading into the distance. The solid floor beneath me felt as if it instantly collapsed and melted, transforming into bottomless, icy, and bone-chilling quicksand.

I felt nothing. Derek jumped in: "Molly, I'm not asking you to choose anymore. We're both willing to love you together—don't stress yourself out. We're both yours!" He held up the Moonlight Necklace, another family heirloom. The crowd was buzzing with gossip. I thought it was absolutely ridiculous.

The year Daniel went broke, I swallowed every last drop of pride.  I took a job as a dancer at a shady nightclub just to pay off his debts. We lived in a forty-dollar-a-night basement room, surviving on stale energy bars and tap water.  I became the laughingstock of everyone we used to know. Eight years later, he pulled off the ultimate comeback and clawed his way back to the top. His very first move?  Bringing his high school sweetheart, Mia, straight into our home. At his victory party, in front of a room packed with people, he laid down three rules for me. "First, keep your distance in public. Mia’s a total germaphobe. "Second, Mia is sensitive. From now on, tell people yo

Three years after faking my death, Adrian Shaw and our son found me. I fought to get away from them. I cried. I struggled. I told them I'd rather die than go back. Then my seven-year-old son put his hand on my mother's ventilator. Adrian stood beside him, and his voice shook when he said it. "Mia, you pick. "Either your mother suffocates in that bed, or you're Mrs. Shaw again." I was shaking so hard I could barely stand up. But I didn't have a choice. I signed the papers and married him a second time. When I walked back into that house, I became the perfect wife and the perfect mother. Whenever my adopted sister Nina was upset and needed Adrian with her, I never called him — not

"Not all but I do hate attending showoff fiasco gatherings like the one that happened today." "But you still attended it. Like, why not just ignore it like Kai does?" she suggested, only to regret her words the very next moment. "I can't." he looked away from her. "I don't want people forgetting my mum. They say I resemble my mum a lot. So I want them to remember her. I want them to not forget that my mum existed in that very society. And I know I sound stupid and pathetic. But I want her to be remembered." "It's not stupid. It's really not." she assured.

Not the ache that pulled me under shore, But the arms that made me fear no more. And if this is love I’ve waited for, Then let me stay in this feeling... evermore. ────────────────────────────────────────────────────

With that we talked through the night . There are times that you would close your eyes, Those special memories of me will always bring back a smile, Calling my number repeatedly but with no response , If only you could have me back for just a little while you would say ,When I fade like the shadow of moon or like the whispers of the sea, The times of pain and the days of sorrow ,Miss me a little but not too long ,I want no cries, why cry for a soul gone to a better place, a home built with gold ,The time when living feels like dying ,Miss me but let me go , When I come to the end of the road and the sun has set for me , Miss me but let me go , For this journey is one we all must take , Bury

Stars in my eyes. I’d dropped to my feet, spun around, and rose to my tiptoes. He slid inside me from behind. My forehead rolled against the wall, my fingers sliding down the stone. His hand on my throat; his lips at my ear. “Moya. Vse moya.” Mine. All mine. Inked fingers braced on the wall beside my own. Suds and skin and a raven called Nevermore. My chest held a brittle paper heart knowing, soon, this man would slip through my fingers like another lost Lenore . . . I returned to the present, my arms spread on black sheets like a snow angel’s, before I was again sucked back to yesterday.

The poem went this way, Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there; I did not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush, I am the swift uprising rush Oh quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there; I did not die.