by Tristram Tuna, October 1997
The Siren weeps softly, for it is her curse
To love all her suitors, as they
Fall in love with her voice, so soft yet so firm,
And the light of the stars in her eye.
But hers is an island that's fashioned from pain
And it's black and it's perilous there.
One slip in the dark and it swallows them up
And they sink to the depths in despair.
She knows this so well and she dare make no move,
She feels safe where she stands and will stay.
So her suitors must come to fulfil their desires
But all perish and fall on the way.
She remains all alone, and alone she must stay
Surrounded by rocks, reefs and waves.
She still has her dreams but she finds only grief
Instead of the love that she craves.
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