Once upon a midnight dreary, while I reloaded weak and weary,
Over many a limb of zombie and other curious bits of gore.
There I bandaged, neatly wrapping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As if some infected rapping, rapping at the safe room door.
"'Tis some survivor" I muttered "tapping at the my safe room door-
Only this, and nothing more."

So I picked up the auto-shotgun and an extra pistol, as I already had one,
Stuffed in my belt alongside the pipe-bomb that I had found on the second floor.
Then from the door, I was retreating and I shouted forth a greeting
"I am glad of this chance meeting, shall I open up once more?
Please respond to my fair question, shall I open up once more,
For it is safe inside this door!"

Presently my fear grew weaker, but the sky grew ever bleaker,
"Sir" said I "or Madam, truly I can't believe there is one more.
As Francis and Bill have both died. Then Zoey fell, I wept, I cried,
I reached this room alone and sighed, then put my back against the door.
Let me unbar it now for you" - here I opened wide the door.
Darkness there and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, my old molotov outside still burning,
My stomach began the churning at the sounds inside the door.
Slowly I raised and covered, with my shotgun, the shaking cupboard,
That banged and tapped and shuddered, until I could take no more.
I walked across to the first-aid cupboard over by the second door,
The ever daunting second door.

Open here I flung the red casing, the heart within my chest still racing,
Out then flew an ebony raven, such I had never seen before.
He shot out round by the boards of plaster, my pulse pounding ever faster
To see such elegance amidst disaster, then fly back toward the second door.
there he preached upon the weapons table alongside the second door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

The first door I barred and blocked with table, microwave and printer stocked,
Thinking of reasons to remain hidden here, again I eyed the second door.
"Tell me, my new friend raven - to this room should i stay slaven?
shall I remain in this here haven?" I wipe my tears and ask once more.
"Tell me what is my course of action, for I can hide no more."
Quoth the raven "Run some more."

Much I marvelled at my new friend, for in recent days I have seen the trend
Of twisted flora, fauna and human, though none spoke to me before.
"Tell me, did you see the Hunter pouncing or upstairs is a Boomer bouncing
Or perhaps a Tank is trouncing a survivor on the final floor?
Or even a Smoker coughing on the roof above the final floor?"
Quoth the raven "Run some more."

With no help from my dark neighbour, onwards and upwards I'll have to labour,
So to gauge what evil awaits me, I listen through that second door.
My head and heart were both throbbing, as I listened to the witches sobbing
And in the distance I heard a boomer gobbing forth his filth and bile and gore.
I shake my head and think of my friends, covered in bile and gore.
They are now dead for evermore.

Shouting "Alright, damn bird. I hear you!" I get a med-pack out from where he flew,
Strap it to my back, pick up some pills and check my guns once more.
"Ok, fine. I'll go." I muttered, not a feather then he fluttered.
So then finally I uttered, "I shall go through the second door.
Stay, bird, or run with me but now I go to that second door!"
Quoth the raven "Run some more."

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting,
Upon the weapons table, alongside the second door;
And my teary eyes are now streaming, I close them tight and wish I was dreaming,
I switch off my lamp-light, for the witch is screaming on the stairs to the final floor.
And I prepare my soul for the shadow that lies above the final floor.
I open up the second door.