The seductive siren awaits,
A finger curled, beckoning forward
Like a moth to the brightest flame,
You foolishly flock,
Not realizing the fatal mistake made
Until it’s already too late
Eyes glazed with abject lust,
Effortlessly, you become prey
Falling into a trap self-made,
No mere prayer can save
Your tainted soul now
© 2 October 2019, by Haley Scully
Introverted Creativity 