Hiding in the mountain the sirens sung. With thin voices running through their lungs, they gurgle and dance, fluttering their skirts and swinging their hair, their mystical, mystifying eyes wide with hypnotize. They sin they commit they dance and wonder like delicate fish. They flap their wing-like fins extending from one slender pale arm to the other. They grab your feet if you get to close; they drown you within their deep blue home. If you sin they take you away, luring you with a fake facade, you look at them, at their partly delicate lips parting to sing you that horrid melody. You spin and spin and spin to a world where you've never been. You sinned so they shall take you away, away to their home, away to a place where you can't hold your breath, where your body will disintegrate. Your skin will shrivel and thin to a point, your eyes will widened till you can hold them no more, that precious soul that rests within you shall shatter and wail under that which it has committed. So sin away your misery to the beautiful, mystical sirens.