The Juxtaposition of the Sailor and the Siren.

Like the sun in Winter, like the snow in Spring, like the early morning songbird and the queen beside the king, she is a vision of beauty that evokes my soul; the reason cradles my heart, my ever bleeding heart that renders me helpless from the rambunctious seas and untiring winds. Hell on high water and beauty by the shore, this love I adore where eyes never glanced afore; I am beholden to nature.

My marionette vessel drenched over the wet wheel - this tortured wreck. I watch these tears hit the deck as my body follows suit into destruction's gate. Abrogation as my witness, I adoringly surrender to her will; the sailor capitulates and moves further into the grasp of the siren.

Lights are glistening; her smile, it glows, she blows my world apart. By the will of my mistress, I am contortion. The glitz, the glamour, it's gone, as I am drawn into driftwood cove. I am the sailor to my siren, the one I love, worship and adore.