the siren

Hyacinth garden

cold blue eyes hair blown far and free

locked in time, suspend the skies continually

and this is my memory of you

on some enchanted isle's shore

winds rush on the ocean wave’s greenest blue

crush against the stippled sand it became your floor

twilight fades to dark can you see this dying man?

she is a certain sculpture smoothed scaled skin so qualified

she made a crystal teardrop out of her eye as his pain intensified

sounds of her siren permeates and echoes off the air

it lures so sweetly no other love could compare

a fantastic space of ancient seas and broken shells,

the tumbled stones, discard your breath as she compels

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