Sense Sonnet - Chiller

 Uninvited Poetic Endeavor

I sit down at my desk to write

A rhyming poem that's full of fun.

But suddenly I'm filled with fright,

Being watched  by an unknown one.

My hand with pen that I do hold

I can't control, my fright does climb.

I see words written dark and cold

By my hand and with end line rhyme.

Who is Lenore? There is her name,

And apparently she is dead.

Is my mind playing a weird game?

I look up from the page in dread.

Then on my desk, how can it be?

A raven's staring back at me.