Stuck in the middle of the ocean
Devoid of movement from the raging storm
I found myself listening to the sirens sing
The sorrowful chime of their music
Rang through my ears
Their voice, Sweet but sorrowful
It got my emotions rampaging
Beguiled by their voice
I cast away all my fears
That sirens are danger to men
I was tempted to join their choir
'cause I was moved to tears
By listening to the sad tale
That their song do bear
It's the story of a young lady whose families were victims of war
they were sent home in a box
With a medal pinned upon their chest
Soon to be forgotten (just like the rest)
She jumps at every opportunity
That leads to the warm embrace of death
reason not to live?, She has plenty
She lost her father before the age of twenty.
A farmer was sent to war
Not to plant vegetables or rear pigs
But to ward off Intruders from our land
Wait!! What??! With a pitchfork in hand?
I asked myself, but the answer is clear.
They were armed with guns, to attack the enemy's lair
Their very first campaign
But they got surrounded instead
It was an ambush
They fought for five days straight
Before the managed to shake the enemy off their tail
But the soon run out of provisions
They were starving
To the point that he prayed for manna
On the tenth day, their prayers were answered
Something did tell off from the sky
It was long and smooth.
Reminiscent of a huge cucumber
But it was white and smoking
What a strange vegetable he thought
Poor Brad
I guess he was laid to rest...in pieces.
Her brother just clocked sixteen
When he was dragged to war
Typical of nowadays teens
They are addicted to internet
While others are fighting
He was busy doing live broadcast, live commenting or whatever you call it
Until a bullet was put through his head from behind
Poor boy, he doesn't even know how he died.
I was busy drinking my beer with a large grilled chicken wings in hand
When I noticed that their music has stopped
As expected of daugthers of acheulus
They are unreliable
Then I turn to the last siren standing
(Others have run off to God knows where)
I told her to continue the tale
But she looked at my grill
With tears in her eyes.
What's so special about my chicken wings and laps
Oh, maybe it's the size.
Or she cared for some
Poor lass, she was deserted by her people.
"Follow me or die"
I asked nicely
She must have been expecting me to ask that question
She jumped straight into the cage
I can still see the happinesses in her eyes
When I returned my sword into it's sheath.
I guessed I just found myself a new singing bird.
