I wish I could be a slam poet..
I am a siren of this generation.
Art lures a man to his untimely destruction with sweet melodies,
Singing of sorrow, longing, all to trick the ears that hear my pleas.
They come to trace to thieve to thank to toast to touch to
Linger here in supposed security of lasting love.
Art has power to make men cower to my every dream
But there’s emptiness here that is never seen by the victim eyes.
The silhouette beside me is but shape of love.
I am forlorn,
Luring men to their drowning death deeming me a life of eternal emptiness, leading me to know more loneliness than love
I am a siren of this generation.
I am cursed.
Art lures a man to his untimely destruction with sweet melodies,
Singing of sorrow, longing, all to trick the ears that hear my pleas.
They come to trace to thieve to thank to toast to touch to
Linger here in supposed security of lasting love.
Art has power to make men cower to my every dream
But there’s emptiness here that is never seen by the victim eyes.
The silhouette beside me is but shape of love.
I am forlorn,
Luring men to their drowning death deeming me a life of eternal emptiness, leading me to know more loneliness than love
I am a siren of this generation.
I am cursed.