The Siren's Call

I'm tired, and this is the result!

The siren calls to me from the rocky shore,

 

Promising a paradise if I'd just sail close

 

Lulling me to believing; luring me to doom

 

I know that way disaster lies,

 

But I just can't help myself

 

Like an invisible magnet, she draws me on

 

Powerless to resists her promised charms

 

Powerless to chart a different course

 

And so I'll be smashed and broken upon a windswept shore,

 

The Isle of Desolation

 

So if you're sailing by on your way to someplace else,

 

You may spy my shadow upon the cliffs

 

A sad warning to all who sail this way

 

Beware, beware

 

Reviews

[Marie]

THis is something very different for you, Michael...

It sounds as if you lost your TV remote, and that certainly shouldn't lead you to the Isle of Desolation...

[Michael Stevens]

Yeah, and until I do, I'll only write depressive stuff like this!

[Marie]

What I mean was if you lost your remote you couldn't turn on your tv set, and I thought watching tv is what really depresses you.

[Michael Stevens]

Good point, unfortunately not! Maybe on a subconscious level, not losing it is the reason; I'll bet it is! I couldn't figure out where this poem came from, but now I understand; damn you cable news!