Siren of an Enchantress
Beneath the moon’s pale, flickering glow,
Where restless tides in whispers flow,
There sings a voice, both sweet and dire,
A melody of dark desire.
Her hair is spun of midnight’s thread,
Her lips—the hue of roses bled.
With every note, the waves obey,
And mortal hearts are led astray.
Oh, foolish man who dares draw near,
Beware the song you long to hear!
For though it blooms like honeyed wine,
Its roots are thorns, its end—divine.
She calls to you in tones so pure,
A siren’s pledge, a love secure.
Yet in her gaze, the tempest brews,
A storm no vessel can outrun.
The first who fell was bold and brave,
A king now chained beneath the wave.
The next, a poet, lost in verse,
His final rhyme—a whispered curse.
Still others come, lured by her grace,
Each one ensnared in her embrace.
Their bones now gleam in coral halls,
Their voices mute when twilight falls.
But should you stand on cliffs so high,
And meet her gaze with steadfast eye,
You’ll see the truth behind the guise—
The sorrow drowning in her sighs.
For once, they say, she walked on land,
A mortal soul with heart unplanned.
But love betrayed and oceans deep
Turned joy to woe, and wake to sleep.
Now cursed to sing, yet never weep,
She lures the lost to endless keep.
A prisoner still, though none can tell,
Bound to the sea by her own spell.
So heed this tale, let warning stay—
The fairest songs oft lead astray.
For beauty’s call may charm the ear,
But some enchantments drown in fear.
Comments
Flynn
Truly mesmerizing!
2025-05-01
0