The Siren

It wasn't then clear to me how I would later become so desperate for more. How a few drops would water my wasted garden. So frail am I to drop what is standing and leave my castle alone, unguarded! For the lust of knowledge! Like a boy of no wits follows trails of delusions! I can now see how I reached this far for you, and how I have mistaken myself for eternity. You have held my long-lasting desire In peace, freed and tamed my beast away; for wonders of yours do come true. Calling me afar was how I fell apart, undressed, vulnerable, driven to my doom. It is how you feel when a siren falls for you. Your soul would no longer be yours, your heart would beat like it was never before. Sirens are known to bewitch whoever comes close, they entice men to fall into their melodic trap. Singing their finest piece ever to usurp life out of poor men unaware of their fate. For Man, there's no homecoming to what he was before. He would be left piled atop of whoever fell into the net with their skin hanging. Oh! Victims of Passion!. How I was such a fool! Falling for the wrong and kiss. For my skin has learned no more but fear. For a soul of mine is in need of search. A broken heart to be mended. It was written right before light, that is no coincidence, I shall sail right to my fate in irons. God! What have I done to deserve such awe? To bear the regrets of my doings upon my chest. How would I understand the luxury of wisdom while I fail to see!

Tendering on my cheeks she does with eyes of pry and wonder, for she seemed to have found her lost passion. When passion meets, she dropped her defenses and lay. Masks fell and devils came out before us. Shy eyes became too dare to look further, for no barriers were held. And when boundaries collided, the sea hugged the shore and kiss. For I had to calm and breathe when a flame rises on the docks of red, leaving me astray. A flame of frustration and passion, rising up to my chest and go, opening my eyes to what my heart follows. A flame kept for centuries alone in the dungeon, for now, is the time to break. Tides were rough as the flame, far more intense as if the pain weighs the world. With each tide hits, pleasure follows, the melody goes up and the flame gets wild and wild. Water streamed the docks so gently, flooded, and filled the wasted cracks. How sweet is it to fix a cracked soul! A soul suffered centuries in despair. The globes before me were my path to eternity, for I have lost my way. So wonderous to be in-between, slipping through the valley of wonders where gentle roses, and waterfalls running slow and sweet. It is where every man came from, for he shall return to what nurtures his soul, to what feeds his mind, and to what boosts his will. For he has to know the truth and let his fears away. So rough to have your soul revealed before you, helpless to protect what is ruined inside. It is known that what appears on the surface is, however, in great contrast to what lies inside.