xii. siren

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siren

Old wounds, new knifes
Cutting fills their apatite.
They take what you love the most
And make you wish you didn't boast.
For when you tell them who you love
You become the Raven, them the dove.

Under the spell of the siren
Their words to lovers are likes a virus.
Who could not be tempted by their ways
When they never show you their real face.
As this pain starts to grow
My heart just can't let go.

To never love would be convenient,
But I know I'll always find a reason.
A foe with no intention to make amends,
Pretends to care, to be a friend.
Don't listen to their siren song,
For no time can mend their wrongs.

// R.M.

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