Song of the Siren

Commanded by marionette hands alone
Prancing macabre dances on polished stone
Such is fate – entwined and tangled strings
From choices – Rejoices
So succulent the song the Siren sings.
She beguiles a beauty of innocent bent
Alluring their moorings – rugged souls long spent
‘Tis their fate – as shared obsession grows
Unrefrained – Utter vain
So rooted the seeds the Siren sows.

Crafted and mastered from faint echoed lore
To penetrate – illuminate – a hardened heart’s core
She is fate – breathing emotion unknown
Elegant trace – Tender grace
So enriching the love the Siren has sown.

By her leave, I, too now stand entranced
Deluding – perhaps eluding – my sins perchance
Awaits my fate – melodic wonders be
No choice – One voice
So precious her gift the Siren gives me.

---Keith Aitken, September 2006

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