What is that on the wind? The angelic songs ring forth. It resonates within my heart and soothes my very soul. So gentle. So calm. Many are calling, many are singing, but one strikes a chord within me that wraps me like a blanket. The warmth that I feel, the love that emanates — it must be a caring being.
The road is hard, the storm is treacherous, but in the end my prize will be the most angelic being that ever walked this earth. Anything that she wants, I shall provide. Any threat she faces, I will expunge. The song calls me to the eye of the storm.
As I step into the calmness, I see her there. Her golden hair flows with a grace that has never been seen. Her eyes sparkle with the quality of a diamond. Her form is beyond this earthly realm. As I behold this angel, I give her my heart entirely. An undying cord forms between us in that instance, the umbilical cord of love.
I give her all of me. She continues to sing but has not yet given back. I do not fret, for I would do anything for this creature, this one that can touch my heart from such a great distance, that can make me forget about anything else.
The singing stops for a moment. I look around. Swarms of sirens stand around me, attracted to the love I give forth. Each wants some for themselves. Suddenly, I realize that the storm itself was protecting me from the calm within the eye. For in the calm, they come for you like a wolf with the smell of blood. They feed together. One is the lure, the others are the devourers.
Turning back to the golden-haired angel, I realize that she is not so. The umbilical cord of love is a rope of bondage. It was a trap. She betrayed me. There never was care in her heart because there was no heart in her. It was a facade to lure me to my end.
Dozens of cords attach themselves to me from the mouths of the sirens. What once was beautiful song becomes shrieks of bloodlust. The chorus of consumption rings forth, and my soul begins to drain. How can beings so stunning be the greatest beasts of all?
As I fall to my knees, a dozen cords attached to my torso like leeches, my soul fading away, I realize that I am finished. There is no coming back from this place. There must be real angels out there, but I was lured by a demon. A siren. The vilest of all mythic creatures.
They are real, my brothers. They are numerous. They are here to destroy the souls of men. But there is hope for you that still walk in the storm. Do not follow the songs, for they will lead you to the eye. Once you see the eye, you must immediately flee back into the storm. A true woman will be there with you, walking next to you through the storm of life.
For me, I am spent. My energy drains. For whatever I have left, I wish that you heed my warning. Take this writing to heart. Do not try to rescue me from the grasps of the sirens or else you will also fall. They swarm. They devour. Then they appear angelic again. Do not fall for it.
Find a woman in the storm…
