The siren’s song,
It plays along
The cresting whitecap waves
From splashing tails
To snow white sails,
It fills the foggy bay
The prows of ships
Turn t’wards the cliffs
Of crags and caverns grey
The mist, it clouds,
Conceals and shrouds
The cries of sirens’ prey
A woman runs,
The only one
To escape their waylay
Her glasses bright
With flick’ring light
When thrown the siren’s way
The lenses shine,
Catching their eyes,
Leading them each astray
Their hunt forlorn,
The sirens mourn
The one who got away.
- An excerpt from Dione Nikolaeva’s journal, based on a personal recount from Dr. Zhaohui Shen
(Check under the cut for more information~!)
Shen doesn’t like sirens very much. The image of this usually stern, serious woman stumbling her way up the coast in a flurried panic because she can’t see a thing without her glasses as she’s running... it’s just. So hilarious to me. XD
Also? I really get the vibes that this would make a good creepy-esque song, and I’m real tempted to try and turn it into one, but my singing voice is abysmal. (Also yes this is an original piece of poetry, I wrote this, this isn’t a song that existed before.)
