Oh, to be a siren, a terrible Greek myth
with woman's head and eagle's body.
To be an in-between thing,
not woman nor beast—indefinable.
To be legendary,
a great screeching, swooping bitch,
snatching sailors from safe passage,
taunting lighthouses with my song,
holding their attention in my talons.
I am relentless in my torment,
tremendous in my domination
of jagged coastlines,
filled with infinite playthings,
little scurrying people, small as ants.
Watch, as I possess them with one note
of my hypnotic lullaby,
diving through salt-sprayed air
to snatch them up in my claws.
Watch, as I become Queen of the Bay,
of the waves, the winds, the sea.
See me now, all power and magic.
See me now, so much more than before.
Oh to be a siren, great and terrible,
gliding on these wings of self-assuredness.
