The Lorelei sang ships upon the rocks.
The sailors had no gills, could never learn
to breathe beneath the waves. No murderess,
she warned them of the river and the rocks,
but with strange words that seemed to lure them down.
Not slow to see, but slow to see hope lost,
she sang because she was, because she must,
being half-goddess, woman, and alone.
The bottom of the Rhine filled up with wrecks.
The Lorelei sang on. The sailors drowned.
Copyright 2010-2012 Paul Petrie