Awakening me from my idle and doze,
The skiff began rocking with every great billow,
When all of a sudden a maiden arose,
With the tresses of a bronze-drenched willow.

Her pale white visage shone lunar light,
Reflecting on her body of shimmering scales.
She rivaled the moon on this stygian night,
Spattering water with her forked turquoise tail.

Her song was enchantingly melodious,
An exquisite harmony of pure elation.
In this blur and daze so utterly euphonious,
I wished for there to be no last cessation.

Then was I dragged into the depths of the sea,
Grasped by her glacial yet placid embrace.
I surrendered on attempting to set myself free.
The barnacled seabed is my true-destined place.