I know a siren named Skye.
If you know her, count yourself lucky.
She runs this town with hair like a crown,
and she’ll kill you with a glance or smile.
Some power grows slow from deep within.
Some power is imbued.
Some power falls from the heavens above.
Some power is known within.
Shining makes the world aware,
of the glow that makes her shine.
Others will not like this glow,
but others, still, will be drawn.
She loves and loves
in circles all around,
but where is the love that cannot be found?
It’s pulled from the universe, so vast and broad.
It’s conjured, like magic, from the skyes.
Nobody will ever understand who she is;
that’s not the point.
Showing the world what she is capable of,
she longs for most from this life on high.