Once upon a look so leary, from a mind so weak and
dreary.
Over many a strange and curious thought of wanting
more.
While he plotted, merely mapping, suddenly there he
was tapping.
Is that the stalker gently tapping, tapping at my
front door?
Is it some visiter, "I muttered" tapping at my front
door?
Only this and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak fear,
And each separate dying shadow wrought his presence
across my floor.
Eagerly I wished an answer, vainly he awaits like a
cancer.
From my life comes much sorrow... Sorrow from my
stalker Phantom.
For the stares and hidden looks from my stalker whom
goes by the name Phantom.
Faceless he seems forever more.
And the sick sad stalker wanting to peek behind my
curtain for each event is uncertain.
Thill him... Fill him with fantastic dreams he's
thought before;
So now, to read the madness of his mind, in his notes
repeating.
It is a note from the Phantom left at my front door.
Some madness left by my stalker at my front door.
This it is and something more.
Presently my anger grew stronger; hesitating then no
longer,
Sir your madness, truly a psychiatrist should explore;
But the fact is your brain is napping and so gently
you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my front
door.
That I scarce was sure I heard you, then I slowly
opened my door.
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there
wondering, fearing,
Doubting, horrors nightmares no mortal ever dared to
dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no
token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
Phantom!
This I whispered, and an echo murmured in the back of
my mind, Phantom!
Merely this and nothing more.
Then into my place turning, all my anger within me
burning,
Soon I heard again a tapping somewhat louder than
before.
Surely," thought I, "surely that is his shadow at my
window shutter.
Let me see, then, what this threat is, and this
mystery explore;
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery
explore;
It is the wind and nothing more!
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt
and flutter,
In there stepped his shadow yet his face was not even
a blur;
Not the least bit of his presence; Not an instant
stopped or stayed he;
But with stelf of a cat he comes to my front door.
His shadow perched upon the entrance of my front door.
A note he'll leave and maybe more.
Then this stalker whom I only know by his aliase and
his sad fancy of me,
By the grave and stern words of his photocopied notes
left by my door.
Though my protest and rants at him, he ignores with
much too much calm,
Ghastly grim and loathsome wandering from your nightly
chore.
Show me what face this loathsome stalker whose life is
such a bore!
Quoth the Phantom, I will stalk you more.
Much I marvel at the works of this ungainly, fowl
creature who watches me so insanely,
Though his answers have little meaning... Little
relevancy to the core;
For I cannot help seeing that he is a misogynist being
Ever yet more madness he leaves sitting by my front
door.
Mad beast, upon the paper writen notes left at my
front door,
With his aliase Phantom he has writen more.
But the Phantom, sitting lonely on his cold bed
thought only
That one thought, as if his brain in that one thought
he did obsess on to his core.
Nothing further than what his little mind uttered...
Not one as his eyelids fluttered.
Till he scarcely more than muttered "I'll stalker her
more than ever before...
On the next note he will leave me, his crazy words
just like he's done before.
Quoth the Phantom, I will stalk you more.
Wondering at the stillness broken by his reply so
crudely wirten,
Hopeless what he utters is only ridiculous and rotten
to the core
Caught from some unhappy event of a unmerciful
disaster
Following fast and following faster but with no hope
his mind tore.
Stern despair returned, instead of his sick hope he
dared explore,
That sad answer... Forever... Forever more.
But the Phantom still is stalking me for all these
years.
Straight he will return to place a photocopy of his
note at my front door;
Then with his mind still sinking, from the past his
thoughts are linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous stalker
has in store.
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous
stalker has in store
Means to stalk me forever more.
This I sat engaged in guessing but my anger I'm
expressing
To the fowl stalker whose fiery eyes looking, burned
my rage at it's core;
This and more I am still coping; With his head games
and gloating
On the past on his brain mass lining while his I.Q.
drops lower,
But whose past on his brain mass lining while his I.Q.
drops lower,
He shall repress it forever more!
Then, me thought, that he grew denser, every event I
was tenser
Swung at shadows whose faint foot-falls I swore I
heard from the floor.
"Phantom," I cried, you have come back to stalk me but
it's a fight you shall get from me.
Despite... Despite your memories of what you store;
Let me be free from you and forget your memories of
what you store!
Quoth the Phantom forever more.
"Phantom!" Said I, thing of evil! Phantom still if
stalker and evil!
Whether Temper sent or whether temper tossed that you
ignore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on these notes the words
you have jotted.
Words of horror left by my door you have haunted; Tell
me truly, I implore,
Is there... Is there way to get rid of you? Tell me...
Tell me, I implore!
Quoth the Phantom forever more.
"Phantom!" Said I, thing of evil! Phantom still if
stalker and evil!
By what will bends you, by what twisted fate you
adore?
Tell this tired victim maiden, if within the distant
laden,
I shall grasp a sainted answer to my questions that
you ignore,
Grasp a rare and haunted answer to my questions that
you ignore.
Quoth the Phantom forever more.
Be what word our sign in parting, stalker and fiend!"
I shrieked, upstarting,
Get back from my slow burning temper and leave me like
the low tide at shore!
Leave no note as a token of the madness your hand has
writen!
Leave my freedom unbroken! Quit the shadow at my front
door!
Take your knife from out of my back and take your from
off my door!
Quoth the Phantom forever more.
And the Phantom, never flitting, still is stalking,
still is stalking,
On the streets of the city he is haunting and at my
front door;
And his actions have all the seeming of a demon that
is dreaming,
And the evil he proclaims goes beyond his shadow at my
front door;
And from his evil shadow he claims other victims
plights me more,
Phantom shall be a stalker forever more!
By Melissa McMahan ~ "The Phantom" I wrote as a take
off of Edgar Allan Poe, "The Raven" about my stalker.
