serendipity

the siren's call

sirens are winged creatures in greek mythology. their singing would lure unsuspecting soldiers towards jagged rocks and, consequently, their deaths.
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my mother once told me
that pretty little things
aren't often as beautiful
as they appear to be

ignorant to her wisdom
i set sail on a sea
they called dead
where i encountered her

her who they had warned me
about in history books
called her a sailor's doom

(oh, you should have heard her. she woke the dead sea with her voice. she lured me in with a perfidious melody, an unearthly call. she sung like she knew about all the sorrows in this world. the most gorgeous mess i had ever witnessed, a possible disaster, a possible doom but so beautiful)

and just like the thousand others before me
i fell in love with her song
(because she made me feel so special, so good,
like she sang for me and me only)

curiosity got the better of me and i
sailed through the jagged waters of the sea
in hopes to find the beautiful face
behind that voice

and it was only when i met her
when i saw the truth in my mother's words

(because she did sing beautifully, mesmerisingly so, but she sang with her eyes flashing and her hands ready to strike. because although her mouth sang the most melodious of songs, her actions betrayed her by tearing apart my ship in mere seconds. her mouth spilled verses, and her hands spilled gasoline. her eyes danced with the fire that she used to set my ship ablaze and then she watched on calmly as everything fell to pieces. i watched and i watched. i watched her break the windows and rob every single one of my treasures, and then i watched her leave me on the ground, begging for help, her song still echoing in my ears; beautiful, but hauntingly so)

how cold of a person was she
and how foolish of a man was i
she was bitter and i was desperate
she got her revenge and i got my heart broken

(what a good thing
hearts can't physically break -
mine would be shattered into pieces)

they ask me about her
i tell them she's a force not to be reckoned with
because there is nothing more i regret than
answering the sirens call

- perhaps pretty little things aren't as beautiful as they appear to be.

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love love love - s