Skecthing of The Siren, JW Waterhouse

Lips whisper poison:
the only language I speak
Face portrays beauty-
yet rot lies beneath

I wonder if he sees
as he hazards a glimpse
That this Creature has a mind
and it does, indeed, Think

My thoughts rise and wander
beyond this harsh cliffed enclosure
Tempestuous reflections that roll below
All hold the self I hate to know
`So as I open my lips
And whisper a plea
It is my own freedom
Not his death that I seek

Helene Hansen
Year 10 - Melbourne Girls’ Grammar School


Original art : en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sire...