“And they keep calling out, calling out someone’s name”…

normal_©Boris_Vallejo__Sirens_©

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Like Siren’s on the rocks…

Calling ships to shore

Their voices fill the air

Tempting him once more…

Knowing all his secrets

All his dark fantasies

Exploiting his weakness…

Distorting what he sees…

The world around him

And all that he knows

Begin to melt away…

As the North wind blows…

Bringing their words to his ear

And infecting his soul…

A Voodoo type of magic

That simply takes control

Of his thoughts and actions

Which take a life of their own

And the darkness inside him…

Is once again shown

Yet there is nothing he can do…

He’s spellbound by their voices

Those serpents in the grass

Who remove all of his choices…

Telling him what to do

Commanding that he listens…

Like a puppet on a string

Who never learns his lessons

Sleepwalking back towards them…

The moment they appear

Numbing all his senses

Forgetting all his fears

But those Siren’s on the rocks…

Speak in tongues of strangers

And he needs to wake up

Then understand the dangers…

Yet they beckon him over

Knowing he will always fall…

And that he’ll forever be

At their sinful beck and call

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