I've no time
to cast stones
those that you feel
are simply
a deflection
protecting my world
my truth
from the likes of you

Tis the demons
who want to die
Angelic
The reflection in my eye

Ah, beautiful truth
such a visceral experience
I give life
I give love
The riches I receive in return
infuse and protect me
A safe haven
for me
in me
My beautiful truth
champions all

The Sirens might be called the Muses of the lower world, Walter Copland Perry observed: "Their song, though irresistibly sweet, was no less sad than sweet, and lapped both body and soul in a fatal lethargy, the forerunner of death and corruption.".....  The term "siren song" refers to an appeal that is hard to resist but that, if heeded, will lead to a bad conclusion. Later writers have implied that the Sirens were cannibals, based on Circe's description of them "lolling there in their meadow, round them heaps of corpses rotting away, rags of skin shriveling on their bones."*  


you
  may
    as
      well
        stop
          h­iding
        by
      all
    means
  continue
with
  your
    writing
      keep
        trying
          to
        mind-****
      the
    masses