I sit among my rocks, waiting for the men to pass by. <br />The large rock by the door is scarred with my <br />Marks, a record of those I watched die <br />While my song rose to fill the sky. <br /> <br />I pass by that rock every day, and I see <br />Only how many more marks there must be <br />Before my time is done, and I may leave <br />This rocky tower for the blue blue sea <br /> <br />I often wonder if these men ever, ever know <br />As their ship is dashed on the rocks below <br />That I do not hate them. Nay, I love them so... <br />These men who come, and yet too quickly go. <br /> <br />For it is lonely here day after passing day <br />Watching my only joy slip away <br />Beneath the waves as I turn to lay <br />My hand upon that rock so I do not sway <br /> <br />And turn to save the drowning men that I- <br />With my beauty which so pleased their eye <br />And the voice that lured them to my side- <br />Have broken and condemned to die.<br /><br />Arfa Karim<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/siren-s-song-2/
