Magdelene the Siren

Am I like Magdalene?
If I am, I have been her since I was young
Only no white garment or exorcism was enough
No stinging water, no oil thrown hard enough
To cast the demons that were displaced upon me

My soul is forever heavy
Lilith that swims amongst the sea breeze
I take no prisoners for the sea has already captured me
The sailors are the ones that use me
Yet when they try to cling to me
I capture their soul with my talons and drag them with me
Into the abyss
And hold up a mirror to their soul
So they can see they have lost all control
And their inequity they can run from no more

The true sullied and decrepid nature of a man’s soul
Grotesque and seeping
with pus filled sores
By the million ways he has tried to curb his pain
with a vile sword

There is no honour in creating a Magdalene
In ravishing a siren
You should have committed seppuku

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