Parody of The Raven Once upon a midnight dreary, with sweat and the flames of desperation engulfing me,

I strolled about in my room. With which was piled high with arbitrary documents, textbooks and other trivial items for as far as the eye could see. Feelings of despair started to seep in with every failed attempt. I muttered to myself, It has to be here, where else could I have left it? However to my dismay in the drawer sat only a slip of paper. Only this and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing with time ticking away, seconds then soon minutes passed by. What ever would I do? But the silence would not last as I soon broke into a psychological scream. Remember remember remember I screamed with desperation. Was this some distraught nightmare, an illusion? Nothing seemed to be going my way while everything seemed to have gone awry. What kind of cruel joke is this? With great diligence and sharpness I continued on my search on crates boxes, backpacks, anything that could hold a 3.5inch by 1inch device. However each time I was let down with the discovery of trivial items instead. Only this and nothing more With arms, fingers and palms sweating, slowly I reached toward the next drawer, thinking this must be it. With all the hope I could muster I sincerely wished for a fortunate ending to this disaster of a night. With great suspense, I, timidly, pulled open the drawer. But yet once again to the dismay of my wild dilapidated eyes there was nothing of significance that I longed for and nothing more. With sadness drowning me, I acted with insanity, repeatedly opening and slamming close the drawer. Where thou art gone? I begged and cried then swore, all the while pleading and pleading to my ever so weak of a memory. Nothing but Silence, it seemed as if I had forgotten everything. Only this and nothing more They say that in times of crisis, human vitality is full of surprises, but it takes more than just adrenaline, desperation to endure the most potent of mans failure: His own memory. And to this day I do not know the place to which my precious ipod has gone. Destroyed, lost forever I assumed. Thus I cried, Why must this disaster be let upon me! Of these murky desolate days I swear I shall see no more.