Author's Note: In honor of Poe's birthday (January 19th) Here is my dark parody of The Raven.

It is very late - but better late than never. Thank you to Kapu37 for beta reading. I do not own The Raven.

There are three homage lines identical to the original poem - I do not own those either.

As always, constructive criticism is welcome. I am not a poet, so let me know if you see any awkward meter etc. I can use all the help I can get XD

June 21, 2012: Please note that—due to the recent purge of adult content—I have removed explicit warnings from the summary of this poem. In it's previous form, a keyword search would have tagged it as worse than it actually is. That being said, this poem contains adult themes that may be triggers for some readers. Discretion is advised. Thank you.

Paltereth the Seeker, "Nevermore!"

Once upon an Earth night dreary, while I glanced, though battle-weary,

Over many an acrid aside in Starscream's scornful report,

While I seethed, nearly snapping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of someone impatiently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

'Tis the traitor, I growled, banging on my chamber door.

Only Starscream, and nothing more.

Ah, irately I remember the failed mission this morning,

And each optic's burning ember wrought its flame upon the door.

He would suffer 'til the morrow, for tonight I sought to borrow,

From his anguish surcease of sorrow, sorrow for my loyal second of yore,

For the once perfect soldier – perfect as the stars, whose name he bore –

Frag him for evermore!

And the prospect of revenge – for the lost battle, lost loyalty,

Thrilled me – filled me with a hate felt often before;

So that now, to the pulsing of my spark, I stood entreating

'Tis my insidious second demanding entrance at my chamber door –

My greatest failure demanding entrance at my chamber door; -

'Tis hate I feel, and nothing more.

Presently my ire grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

"Traitor," growled I, "Little glitch, I will stand your brazenness no more."

Unlike some, I was working. And behind my door, you are lurking,

Disturbing my peace with incessant rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

So loud the whole ship heard you – here I keyed open the door; -

Starscream there, and nothing more.

Meeting my optics sneering, vainly trying to hide his subtle fearing,

Daring, despite his shaking wings, to question me once more,

But his rare silence was yet unbroken, and his optics gave no token.

"You should have heeded my warning, my Lord. This time, as many times before."

He finally whispered, "Use my expertise! Or else, what am I Second for?"

Rasped merely this, and nothing more.

Back into my chamber turning, patience gone, anger burning,

Behind me I heard thrusters tapping, tapping on my chamber floor.

"Starscream," I growled, "Your impudence knows no bounds."

The seeker sauntered into my quarters, like he'd done so many times before,

As my spark pulse quickened, unbidden, warming my long frozen core; –

Hatred hastens my spark, and nothing more.

Before a word more could he utter, I struck, and he began to stutter,

Begging for mercy, beginning a ritual carried out many times before.

Not the least resistance gave he, not one scathing retort made he,

As I forced his delicate, winged body down upon my floor;

A quiet whimper as I spread his thighs, and thrust in my cord,

Exposed and humiliated, he said nothing more.

The sight of my traitor beautifully beguiling, had myself cruelly smiling,

As he tried to school his features, until a neutral mask he wore.

"This is where you belong, my seeker," I said. "Beneath me."

A quiet moan escaped the resisting lips of my reluctant whore.

"Swear to not stray once more, as you have persistently before."

Whispered the seeker, "Nevermore."

Much I marveled my stubborn lieutenant to concede so quickly,

His hesitant answer would not do, I desired something more,

For there is no doubt that there was never a seeker sparked,

Ever, with treachery so deeply embedded in his programming's core,

As the flawed masterpiece currently writhing on my chamber floor; –

Moaned the seeker, "Nevermore."

But Starscream, spread out on the cold floor, spoke only,

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour,

Nothing further then he uttered – not a wing then did he flutter –

'Till I scarcely more than muttered "We have been here many times before –

In the morrow you will deceive me, as you have countless times before."

Then the seeker said, "Nevermore."

Mesmerizing optics meeting, true sincerity foreign, fleeting,

"Doubtless," said I, "What you utter is only to preserve yourself once more,

lies flung to avoid disaster, careless placation of your livid master."

He followed my movements with his hips, as he cried out upon my floor,

'Till his moans became a steady song of the burden he bore,

He fervently pleaded, "Never-nevermore."

The siren song of seeker crying, lured lusting mind into repriving,

Fate decided, I threw him upon my berth, much more cushioned than the floor;

Then, upon the comfort sinking, I betook myself to linking,

Linking into Starscream, thinking what this treacherous seeker whore,

What this backstabbing, insufferable, and beautiful seeker whore,

Meant in rasping "Nevermore."

This deception I lay engaged in assessing, yet no syllable expressing,

To the seeker whose fiery optics now burned into my very core;

The lie I found, my cord still driving, driving into the seeker desperately crying,

Upon my berth, crying shamelessly, as my greedy optics looked him o'er.

As I plunged again and again into him, as overload took him o'er.

Stunningly the seeker arched, "Ah, nevermore!"

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed with my second's intimate scent,

As I sought my own fulfillment, deep within my dear traitor's core.

"Glitch," I growled in overload, "Saved by your pretty fragging lies – your sexy little cries."

Bliss! You are Bliss, my deadly, treacherous seeker whore!

Oh, I would finally be able to kill you, if only I didn't lust for more.

Insisted the liar, "Nevermore."

And now the traitor, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting,

On my berth, gazing blankly at my chamber door,

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,

And the light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

"How long can this ridiculous cycle continue?" I ask, watching his shadow play on the floor,

He sighs forlornly, "Evermore."