Splintered masts rise from the angry sea Rotten towers above a watery hell Bloated corpses clothed in tattered Sails bob like apples A distant song floats on the breeze How sweet the melody that calls That beckons you closer and closer still That voice fills your head Consumes your will Cliffs and jagged rocks await yet still you steer Into that floating mausoleum Chasing the siren’s song The hull will crack, too late to save your life Your blood will join the tempest soon Laughter fills the air, water fills your lungs She whispers, “welcome home”