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Siren Bride
-~}}} Siren Bride {{{~-
Upon the bow of the sloop that bore us in haste…
I heard the call of a maiden as pale went my face!
No mortal maid could make music so passing fair,
I longed to join her, just wash away all my care…
No mortal man could want a dream, so very bad!
I heard the crew muttering, saying that I was mad.
My knuckles tightened on the railing, so very raw,
As my angry voice lashed out, like a raven’s caw:
Let no man judge me for none have been so bold!
I’ll not let a single mutinous swine grow to be old.
I am the captain, and these waters have a power,
So gather round and listen for nigh is a dark hour.
And all the crew, they gathered before the bow…
Every man had heard the music from below now.
Some became fearful, and prepared escape rafts,
Whilst a fire that burned not was about the masts!
Pale and blue: an omen of spirits from the depths.
Whence, came they: from out darkly sunken rifts?
They were rising up and in their ascent so mighty,
I heard songs that would have shamed Aphrodite.
Slender arms reached up and dragged men down;
As terror gripped my soul I so thought I’d drown.
On each dying man’s face was a smile so sublime!
That one might think them content to sink in brine.
I heard the voice, of one who with Dagon dines…
And I felt sharp barbs of the divine trident’s tines.
In the places where seaweed adorns maidens’ hair,
The sea gods awaken, in their long forgotten lair.
Above, the world is shaken: by old gods, stirring!
I waited for their return, their powers conferring…
Madness to those who cannot grasp the mystery,
Of those who were ancient: before man’s history.
Dagon arose that day, and sent the sirens to hunt,
For those already tainted, to drink of watery font.
I cast to the gods a coin from a Spanish treasure,
And a sea goddess showed me wicked pleasure!
My crew came up from below; I am captain still…
Now we sail forever, seeking living blood to spill!
My bride is a green maiden of the depths, a siren:
She sings when men die beneath our blades again.
Pale azure flame that consumes not, in the rigging,
Announces our ship of fools, her bell dully ringing.
Once, we were privateers, of fortune and esteem,
But now we drift on the sea, in our waking dream.
The old ones who dwell in their cities of the deep,
When they ensnare a soul, it is theirs to ever keep.
The lads cannot die, and in my sleep is nightmare!
So if you hear the cry of the sirens sailor, beware.
Upon the bow of the sloop that bore us in haste…
I heard the call of a maiden as pale went my face!
No mortal maid could make music so passing fair,
I longed to join her, just wash away all my care…
No mortal man could want a dream, so very bad!
I heard the crew muttering, saying that I was mad.
My knuckles tightened on the railing, so very raw,
As my angry voice lashed out, like a raven’s caw:
Let no man judge me for none have been so bold!
I’ll not let a single mutinous swine grow to be old.
I am the captain, and these waters have a power,
So gather round and listen for nigh is a dark hour.
And all the crew, they gathered before the bow…
Every man had heard the music from below now.
Some became fearful, and prepared escape rafts,
Whilst a fire that burned not was about the masts!
Pale and blue: an omen of spirits from the depths.
Whence, came they: from out darkly sunken rifts?
They were rising up and in their ascent so mighty,
I heard songs that would have shamed Aphrodite.
Slender arms reached up and dragged men down;
As terror gripped my soul I so thought I’d drown.
On each dying man’s face was a smile so sublime!
That one might think them content to sink in brine.
I heard the voice, of one who with Dagon dines…
And I felt sharp barbs of the divine trident’s tines.
In the places where seaweed adorns maidens’ hair,
The sea gods awaken, in their long forgotten lair.
Above, the world is shaken: by old gods, stirring!
I waited for their return, their powers conferring…
Madness to those who cannot grasp the mystery,
Of those who were ancient: before man’s history.
Dagon arose that day, and sent the sirens to hunt,
For those already tainted, to drink of watery font.
I cast to the gods a coin from a Spanish treasure,
And a sea goddess showed me wicked pleasure!
My crew came up from below; I am captain still…
Now we sail forever, seeking living blood to spill!
My bride is a green maiden of the depths, a siren:
She sings when men die beneath our blades again.
Pale azure flame that consumes not, in the rigging,
Announces our ship of fools, her bell dully ringing.
Once, we were privateers, of fortune and esteem,
But now we drift on the sea, in our waking dream.
The old ones who dwell in their cities of the deep,
When they ensnare a soul, it is theirs to ever keep.
The lads cannot die, and in my sleep is nightmare!
So if you hear the cry of the sirens sailor, beware.
Published 26th Jan 2012
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Anonymous
5th Nov 2014 00:07am
BEAUTIFUL! OMG! Sorry for my teenage way of saying "Oh my God!" but truly this poem not only is truly a wonderful work of art but I feel like dreaming right now and becoming the story. Excellent Job! You are truly gifted!!!
Worry not, my friend, I oft use "OMG!" myself in place of saying the whole phrase. Methinks it is a term that rather transcends the limitations of age, just as art itself does! I am delighted you enjoyed this poem, and very pleased that it makes you feel so dreamy too. Dream as much as you like, dear Ink! There is nothing more beautiful and profound than being drawn into a tale by the power of imagination. :D
