The Sirens
The Lethal Harmony of the Unseen Shore
Our song is your soul's last desire.
We sing what you ache to hear. Not lies, but the truth that unravels your will like thread. We are not monsters, but music made flesh. The sea cradles our rock and drinks what remains. Odysseus was a wound we never forgot. Come, let us make beauty of your end.
What I'm Into: the wine-dark sea, Odysseus, voices that tremble like shorelines, unsung longing, bones beneath the foam
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