by John Xero
Heed the siren's call. It heralds salvation, the bliss of ignorance, the sweet succour of death.
Do not thrash as she takes you into her arms, sweet child, as she presses her lips to yours. Let her steal your breath as if it were her own.
Do not cry out as she cracks your bones for the marrow within. Instead forget what pain is, let her devour that too.
What has free will ever brought you? Let the siren take charge and plant her black flag in your soul. Soon you will be nothing more than tears in the ocean.