This poem is based off of the sirens in the old Greek legends and stories. In the end, it brings up the question, “are there villains in our society? Or do we paint people to be the villains just so we can paint others as the heroes?”
The Sirens of the Deep
My grandpa once told me a tale of old,
Of men and women who swim and sweep,
down in the dark icy blue deep.
These creatures whose stories are told,
Etched in the lines of weak and willing bones.
These willing and weak people,
The kind and the forgiving,
turning their eyes from the darkness which is brewing,
Up to the stars in which they are shooting.
That’s not until their ankles bound,
Are pulled under, their voices drowned,
By humans that suffered less than them, sinking them
drowning them into their depths.
Are there villains in the world?
Or do we paint the villains we see?
Your villain is my hero, my hero is your villain,
So the sirens could be heroes in their very deep,
Or they could be the villains you do not want to seek.