The World of 

Zoë Behrens

Siren’s Song

The ocean waves are calling,

I feel myself give chase.

It sounds as though its from Heaven,

Yet I feel the Devil’s embrace.

The sound is pulling me closer,

I feel I’ve no other choice.

I peer into the dark waters

in search of the beautiful voice.

The music is just unbearable

As it takes what will I have left.

I dive from atop the figurehead

And follow it into the depths.

The twanging of my heartstrings

Accompanies the tune so well.

The voice only becomes stronger

As I sink into the depths of Hell.

Hear the mystic Siren’s Song.

I cannot escape it now.

The lyrics sing of my impending doom,

Of this I have no doubt.

Those beautiful words of hatred,

Disguised as words of love.

I cannot dream of a better death

Than that caused by the Siren’s Song.

Ballad of the Sand

Cold the desert winds

The sun rises from the east.

Black seeps from flaking ashes

Sand welcomes swarming heat.

Stepping along the shifts

Darkness reaches to the peaks.

Bound in heavy vestments

Crimson souls begin to speak.

Parasites, unasked for.

Intrusion, now a hot war.

Bloody outcries, an underscore.

Enslavement, an opened door.

Toxins, a force deplored.

A chance, an escape looked for.

Hope, a burdened mind chore.

Resolution, a way implored.

A cataclysm, a new disaster.

Devastation, an age-old factor.

Assimilation, a form of torture

War becomes a forever after.

Projectiles laced with venom.

Withered marrow snaps and falls.

All senses lose momentum.

Fathom the unanswered call.

Words lost, souls are broken.

Stricken foes succumbed by blood.

Trail behind, lack of emotion.

Weak drown in crimson floods.

Aspiration, fuel persistence.

Ambition, fight for existence.

Decision, reinforce resistance.

Hope. orders perseverance.

The sun begins to set,

The battle rages on.

The struggle for peace ensues.

Past many dozen dawns.

The Likes of Me

I know I must be going,

I’m off to sail the sea.

I’ll make a lasting fortune,

You’ll hear a legend after me.

I’ll line my pockets thick with gold,

I’ll hear the riches cry.

I’ll search across the seven seas,

And all throughout the nigh.

A many bounties wait for me,

But soon to me they’ll call.

I cherish the day I finally see

My scarred face across the wall.

I thank you for my pistol

and this blade strapped to my side.

Though I know I’ll forever need them

I know I’ll never die. 

I shall cross a thousand waves a’rolling

Where nautical fiends fly free.

None of them be expecting

A captain the likes of me.

No pirate will dare cross with me

and no beast will sink my sails.

No fear will I give to those

from those maps or from the tales.

Ol’ Davy may think he rules

But a new crown I shall bring.

Sailors will no longer fear his soul

But my praises they will sing.

I’ll carve my name into the stone

That lies beneath the sea.

I’ll raise that jolly roger high

A king is what I’ll be.

Adventure lies ahead of me.

Oh, how I love that salt air sting.

Pack up that Nelson’s blood, and heave!

Drink up on the devil’s wings.

I’ll now be sailing the raging sea

Day’s lasting strength be closing.

Take a breath and enjoy the dying light.

It be gone until the morning.

Drums of War

The beating of the drums

Tells their weary feet to walk.

Their souls swiftly cross the Earth

And they forget how to talk.

They fear what lies ahead 

As they ensure their future fates.

But the drums just keep on beating

So they dare not hesitate.

The Thundering of the drums

Makes their hearts beat even faster.

Their violent tools of hatred

Embrace the coming disaster.

They let out cries of courage

Though it rapidly decays.

They draw their only hope

To get death to turn away.

Metal clashes metal!

Crimson flies into the air.

Their bodies and souls are failing,

Succumbed by pain and despair.

The rattling of the snare

Matches the crackling of their bones.

They fall down one by one,

And they enter the unknown.

The silence of the drums,

It marks the end of this day.

The quiet winds of sorrow

Sweep remaining joy away.

Heed my warning well,

Or this story will be yours.

Beware the rhythmic rumbles

Of the dreaded Drums of War.

Turn the Switch

A palindrome

turn the switch.

it is time to 

turn off the machine.

i will never

let the gears turn again.

i must

shove this wrench into the contraption.

i watch as i 

destroy the mechanics, gears grinding to a stop.

i will never

allow myself to believe in this gadget.

i can

no longer trust the computer in my head.

i cannot say i 

command the tools in my hand.

they 

are always right.

our souls

are obsolete.

unquestioned orders

control my thoughts.

my experiences

are pointless.

i no longer feel we

have a voice.

i have no other choice than to

turn the switch.

Its my Turn

(Collaboration with Sydney Cerizo)

Two flames born of hatred

And when they kiss consume.

The wills they break,

The lives they take,

A never-ending doom....

Over-rated, outcasted
Dangerous, assassin
Caressing your hearts,
Refusing your pleads...

Merciless, everlasting
 Blinded to affection
Dagger in hand,
Secrets overkept,
A killer to the end...

A last resort to many

Is the first move she makes.

All around her people tremble in fear,

A fear she always creates...

Powerful, vindictive 

Deadly, insistent
Untainted condemned,
Corrupted by choice...

Terrible, ferocious 

Master, malicious
Sword at the side,
Death at it’s tip,
No rules to abide... 

A monster he designed

From himself he made the mold.

A demon wanting to take charge
And to possess the world...

Unquestioned orders ignites the spark.

Fear to disobey sustains the burn.

Two flames born of threats,

Her life he always bets,

Yet she always returns...

The Mind is an Open Door

The mind is an open door.

A gateway to a world of your choosing.

While reality is set with rules and with laws,

The mind provides an escape.

Reality is your dungeon.

The mind is an open door.

While reality chains you with its limitations,

The mind forges the key.

Life can push you back.

Force you to deal with all it throws at you.

The mind is an open door.

A shield used to protect you.

A writer’s form of freedom.

An artist’s weapon of choice.

A way for the blind to see all they must.

The mind is an open door.

From Where I Stand

(look at bolded letters)

From where I stand

            you are the killethe world weakens with your embrace                               

                                      a monster without limitations

     care only for yourself

                                 ignore the consequences

 creatures die because of your actions

           all people do is destroy