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Persephone Dec 2020
She lured him in with her laughter
And sang away his doubts
Capturing his heart with winks and witty decelerations  
He wore her kisses like his crown
She kept his sweaters like treasures
He breathed her in and forgot how to scowl
She praised the way he felt
And when she finally finished her spell
The siren realized she had drowned as well
Amber K Sep 2020
Every time I here sirens,
I think of you.
I think of the lights I saw.
The reds and the blues.
I had no idea it was you.
And to this day,
I still flinch at the thought,
that it could be someone else I care about.
Shared from my drafts. About the day I lost a friend to suicide.
Laokos Sep 2020
folding the sirens of
eternity in on themselves
as this scant hour
rebuilds its stage
over and
in the light of my eyes

already there is a perception
of being caught
in a loop - of a lesson
playing out
before a malady
of ignorance

i am free to see it
and i am free
to miss it

it is the long
of the breaching
whale - an exchange
of currents for
the transformation of
sky into
ocean depths

it is
hidden union
in transience

in beautiful
Norman Crane Aug 2020
Among the hideous shapes
   you are my favoured
For the wretched silence of your scoliotic spine
   flavoured with our crimson wine:
Blood diamonds
   screaming songs of sirens
   writhing on a desiccated island's edge
Boiled alive—
   can be distilled into the language of a pledge
I hereby promise to be yours
Foretell you will be mine
Riley OHalloran Jul 2020
The sea needs no sirens to tempt me,
but I’d love to hear one—
it’d be an easy explanation
for the disappearance I’m craving.
Fheyra Jun 2020
Streams— relay the slumber
Tributes to— the Waterfall's Sprite.

'Twas when— the compass— Dismantled
As the bedrocks gruel— Distort the ledge,
Confronted by— tidal waves;—
Imbued the Crush— of a Carapace
That let the Visions— Sprout;—
Abandoned— With the Barriers..

So long,— I do not know..

Sights— Times— are enclosing
Onto the lost,— And the Seafloor sinks
Slowly— Diminishing— The Sirens' Call..
It's just so strange not to remember anything.
Amarys Dejai May 2020
This is not a soft resting of the head, but a surrender.
There is no seafoam to float on, but instead, bones
made from the metal of the anchors of boats, heavy
with the desire of returning to the earth. It is true, light
does exist so long as the sun still burns. But here, in the
depths of a cold that has never been touched by sunlight,
there is only blindness.

The sirens sing melodies reminiscent of the lullabies that
fall from the mouths of mother and into the ears of infants.
To be held, to feel at peace, these innate desires.
To be unborn again.

Fingers grip, the theory of magnetism and the body of an anchor.
Here, there is blindness, a pressuring cold.
Here, the sirens return me to the womb.
After months of my mental health rendering me exhausted, here is my first piece quite some time.
Tuesday Mar 2020
The siren's are singing,
I hear them, they call,
Their cries they summon me,
Into the wild sea.

Their gentle song,
A beautiful hum,
The crashing of waves,
The thunder that saves,
The stillness, inside of me.

Find me, here in this sea,
The dance I share,
Alone, I am free,
The place I found me.

The urgency, the hunger,
Burning in my eyes, the wonder,
What was my life before this?
The sea I will always miss.

Another sun rises,
A stunning blaze, above glassy waves,
I find in myself hope arises,
I surrender into the hope that saves,
The moonlight glistens,
Forever my heart will listen.

My home, my shelter, my life and my love.
For here I am, alone.
In the sea.
Nigdaw Jun 2019
I lie here, supine
Listening to sirens
Heading out towards the motorway
Somewhere, someone's evening
Has turned bad,
In the streets outside the echo
Of teens on mopeds
Reverberates between the
Terraced houses, squeezing
All they can out of a 125 engine
While squeezing all the joy that is left
Out of everyone's sunday night,
Before we all head meekly to work
On monday morning
Weekend warriors, tamed by
The restraints of finances,
Needing to earn the freedom
Of another fix next friday.
I lie here on my side
A pillow blocking at least some
Of the cacophony,
More sirens head out towards
The motorway, someone's life
Has turned into a disaster
All I wanted was an early night.
Ira Apr 2019
"Demons sing,
Throughout the horrid night,
Hoping to cause,
A little fright…"

I don't know why,
But the terrors so good.
We stay here and lie,
Maybe more then we should…

Sirens at night,
Waiting just like we would,
Temptation and ire,
That burns you like firewood.

Maybe we're monsters,
Maybe we're good,
Maybe we're humans,
Just under a hood.

Yet at the end of the day,
We simply saaayyyy,

"There ain't much about us,
That you need to know.
We simply stay here,
Waiting to go.
All that we do,
Is **** fools like you.
For our songs are temptation,
And you humans love damnation!
And just like a lamb,
To the pitiful slaughter,
Your blood will soon run,
Like red crimson water!"
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