The Siren's Call Poem by Strydar Enox

One might find themselves lost within the sirens call,
A pleasing serenade, a savage escalate, a crunch and your flesh will marinade.
She cooks and enlightens with more herbs and spices, than the cajun on the bayou.
Once her song has touched you ears there is nothing you can do.
Her voice it pulls at the strings of the mind.
Lust is all and curious desire.
A single step and all else was missed, her flesh retracts and her teeth and lips react,
A kiss no, not that deep into your neck.
The bleeding persists worse still, than a slit wrist,
Another drop another thought leaving a cadaver for a meal in her mark.

The siren sings her song of loss, her song of pain, her song of want.
The blood it sates the parched feeling of her throat,
so many tears for the victims she coaxed.
Their bodies all limp, their bodies all dead, most of which had large gashes on the head.
A subtle chirp, a lucrative cry, and more surround her soon to die.
Sharp talons, jagged teeth, Beauty holding vain in the image of a beast.
Her hair plastered red; the aroma of rotten. Her lover was lost and flesh forgotten.
She calls to his name, She calls to the night and her response being the sailors she enticed.
They come for her kiss and the more she resists, The more force the men put into play.
That is not to say she escaped that day unscathed and unharmed.

The siren came that sad day just as the women’s dying light faded away.
The gods in the sky, and the demons below both were disturbed by their creations flaw.
The first woman was raped, her body quaked and all the fluids leaked out.
Her cries to the sky were answered as she died and her body altered into a tool of demise.
Attracted to the sin that feeds her kin, she attracts and eats all manner of men.
The song she sings its testimony the desires owned by men.
Stuck in her sin, stuck with with her past, all she can do is reenact.
A ship on the horizon, makes her eyes brighten, and her Song takes another fugue.
The message she sang carried all the way and the sailors proceeded too.
The bodies did pile, and she indulged her wild, placating herself on blood and flesh.

The emotions supplied her energy to fight the knot of disgust within her,
She had fallen from grace and now plays an act of faces,
Where she violently replaces her he fangs into their heads bases.
Her thoughts remain racing as adrenaline keeps replacing.
Where was her love, where did he go?
Only just as quick the memories flow, she remembers his sin, the adultery she was in.
He damned her to sex, and death was the effect and now only rage consumes her.
An icy rage far colder than the bite of a blade, a primal rage a wronged fate.
Her Lover had damned her, and so does she for all manner of men that listen can see.
The sirens song is one of pain, own of love, and one of fame,
Listen carefully and it will be your last. Your memory ended as quick as the sailors crash….