The Siren's Song
The moon shines a garnet red
upon the crimson stained moor.
All sounds cease on this eeire night.
Far in the distance
stands a lone soul
staring at the clear red tinged sky.
Motion is made, time begans again
and sound returns.
A haunting tune of utter despair
is heard clearly accross the moor
coming from the lone figure
a sweet sick song of sadness
spreads far and wide
calling whomever nearby to their doom.
Freezing the body
ensnaring the mind
the song works it's magic
breeding a beloved taint
that spreads to the four corners.
The sickness ever growing
a soul corupt of thine wicked mind
and it is this that we seek,
we're walking ever closer
to our impending end.
To thy destruction
thy follows this sweet, haunting song
without thee thought in mind.
It is in this action thy hurts
thy has thou guilt and thou regret
until thy end is set by fates
do thy fully realize thy own's punishment
but by then it is already too late.