Scream! Silence. Mother weep,
The little sailor’s gone forever.
Water. Fury. Drowning. Deep.
The seaman’s essence, lost. A Siren.
The cradle of waves, his home, now feels empty
Every shape seems grotesque, compared to her form.
A man may die, but his soul keeps on existing
As a thrall to her magic, to her smile, so inviting and warm.
Her body is perfect, her beauty transcendent,
Swept up by her eyes his mind is tormented
And more than all sinners in all the nine hells,
This man of the sea is fevered, demented. ...