Siren's Call

 

Who am I cursed creature?  Given wings like an angel; though clipped in exchange for my liberty.  I have searched without ceasing for my Goddess Persephone.  Of Hades she is now Queen, I’m sure.  Oaths and pennies abound but whose soul is able to cross River Styx and not drown?  Beauty and grace behold my form.  Delicate pruned ivory feathers shroud my bosom as I sit beneath the willow tree.  So what was my crime?  I failed to find Persephone.  I am not a Goddess or one of their kin.  No powers to move mountains shake oceans or winds.  Olympus and Hades have barred their gates.  Oh how I long for my love, Epiphinas.  Alone softly I sing my Siren’s call.

 

My song of lament, my final endeavour entices men to my aid.  A champion, I must find but all who draw near become unworthy bones, remnants of men compressed against the rocks.  Occasionally I look down at their jagged tombs.  Am I the one at fault?  No, they are inferior, deficient and vile.  Their unrepentant souls now coast through the air.  My salvation has spared them from Hades whores.  I wish they would leave, redundant beggars, I have no use.  Staring and stoking me with their farcical, fiery fists.  Where have all the warriors gone?  Has Aphrodite stolen them with her smile?

 

A hundred years have elapsed, trapped; since a ship passed by.  I called and I sang my spirit song but the north east wind blew and boisterous waves curled up snatching my melody.  That ship escaped; she embraced the edge of the world as Selene pushed her moon into place.  I remember sitting on the shore weeping when two dolphins appeared and put a smile on my face. 

I’ve had enough of humanities failure; their destruction staring up at me day after day.  Their greed, lust and lies forever coming to my shore.  Maybe I could find another way?  I wonder if Zeus would listen to my plea.  Would he take pity?  Persephone is his niece he might just resent but could matters be worse than exiles offence?

 

Another year goes by as I wait on Gods and men.  I spend my days panning the seas and creating new melodies.  Lightening’s whip cracked against the distant skyline followed by Zeus’ monstrous roar.  I smile wondering which wife he had offended this time.  I had just broken open a nutshell when I spotted movement.  It travelled fast coming towards the isle.  Skimming across the watery surface as frantic ripples and frothing bubbles escaped.  I wondered if Zeus had heard me as Hermes reached the shore.  Oh the terrible truth.  Hermes relayed of a man coming this way sailing on a blackened ship.  Odysseus is his name, favoured of Athene on his journey home from Troy.  By Zeus’ decree his instructions are clear.  Odysseus is to be left alone to pass by in peace.  No enchanting seduction shall issue from my honeycombed lips.

I didn’t hear him leave.  I didn’t care.  I shuffle my toes through the sand as I walk back to my meadow.  What should I do?  Surely Zeus would not be so cruel?  Demeter must have sent Hermes to lie that is it.

I ponder these thoughts as I tend to my screech owl; a gift for Hades, implore.  The breeze stiffens and holds its breath.  I shield my eyes with my wing as I look out to the East.  A small blackened ship is on the horizon.

I call to my sister, ‘get ready they’re near.’ 

Should I tell her Hermes was here?  I brush through my feathers and unbraid my hair as I run back down to the beach.  Lifting my head I sing out; the purest honey dripping from my lips as my chorus dances through the air.  My sirens call.  Not a thought for Zeus’ command, it’s who I am after all.

 

I can smell their salted sweat, impurities breath, as the blackened ship drifts near.  Something is not right.  These men do not act as I suppose.  My siren’s call has no effect.  Has Zeus deafened their ears?  Still they come closer like a bird to the lure.  Then I see him.  A man standing bound with ropes lashed to the ships mast.

He is writhing and screaming, commanding they let him go but the men hold fast and continue to row.   I know he’s the one, Odysseus, a warrior thrashing before my eyes, filled with all the fury of Gods.  A man, worthy to enter Hades; he looks like he’s been there before.

His veins swell like molten lava rippling on his neck as I continue to chant, my sister joining in,

‘Come Odysseus, come this way.  Listen as we sing; forbidden knowledge, you will hear.  Come Odysseus, come favour us with your presence, as we sing, tell us of your glorious journey and your victory at Troy; then be on your way.’

 

The shipmates continue to row, crashing their oars into the breaking waves, moving backward and forwards in rhythmic time.  Panic on their faces masked by a determination to strive on.  As I realise they are not coming to the shore I run to the water’s edge.  I wade out but the weight of the water soaks into my feathery down.  As the ship passes by Odysseus’ anguished face hangs down in defeat.  I call and call but I know they’re too far.  My last hope to reach Hades sails away on a blackened ship.

 

One more step and it’s over but I hesitate.  Persephone Queen of Hades, what if she waits, longing and longing for her own escape and my next step could seal both our fates.  The anguish inside me, my kidneys grind, heat trickles down my spine, unresolved I return to the shore, drenched.  My sister is pointing.  I dare not look; another ship I knew, filled with men doomed to destruction.  Its hull was creaking and bending with sacrificial lambs.  Then a voice cries out, I twist.  My Epiphinas is at the helm.  As the break of an ocean wave my stomach churns.  I have no control, my melody rises from within.  Is he worthy of my Siren’s call?