A Siren Emblazoned of Sin

drenched in onyx ocean’s armor

army of solitude sheathe

content with nothing less than ardor

that writhes like tempestuous seas

her words sting inflection most dual

where notions of knowing concede

subverting convention though cruel

auspiciously sowing her seed

immutable thoughts put upon her

dry as mercurian mead

visage besotted with somber

neath crimson devonian sweep

as remnants are rent upon her wake

embellishing tempest allures

the advent of all one would forsake

to relish in context so pure

but nary a tale ere hath regaled

in squalid halls of ill repute

for fear of the wrath which she impales

once bold turned to stolid refute

should eyes sympathize her meander

with haste caution cast upon wind

a wicked demise thou wouldst pander

a siren emblazoned of sin

Author: Max Meunier

Feminist. Ailurophile. Musician. Poet. Human.

1 thought on “A Siren Emblazoned of Sin”

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