"Bout the vulture-eyed man"

Darkened now, my thoughts were there
Alone, my heart is beating
It jolted right into these eyes
"No more", his mind was thinking

Twas then remembered, the eighth day's night
That startled me undreaming
Screeching rust made little sound
Oh death 'til when am breathing?

Then sitting up, not standing up
Hearing nothing, but breath and beating
"Who's there?" yelled out my dreadful voice
As demons filed out, all grinning

As time passed on and on, and so
Words then came into seeking,
Seeking, reasons that I beseech
My mind into stop thinking...

"Tis only wind from the old chimney,
Tis only the mouse on the door,
Tis only his cricket that made a chirp,
From the cold blue forrest floor"

Then frigthtened was I when I saw
This light across my chamber
It came a crawling as it loomed
And jumped at frightful anger

I shrieked, I cried until he tried
Once then I saw him cutting,
Cutting what's left and right of mine
My helpless form, that's dying

-By Francis Raymond Arevalo

p.s. i wrote this poem as what I thougt the old man felt in "Tell-Tale Heart"