On bitter seas he launched his keel,
his life was torn asunder.
A fishing man whose world was lost
sought seething sea and thunder.

Larbord to starboard the craft was tossed,
the man lay down to sleep.
A peril craved, a peril giv'n,
the watery grave and deep.

A Siren a'watch upon her isle,
spied, drifting near, her prey.
But sadness etched upon his brow,
caused deadly song to stay.

On seaweed bed with tend'rest voice
to withered soul she sang.
And life, not death, her voice it brought,
inside his head it rang.

A sleeping smile, his face betouched,
his form in keel she laid.
On sea becalmed the craft she launched,
two worlds now e'er in braid.

Upon his shore the man awoke,
his life he found was spared.
But crueler fate, alone, he faced,
his heart and Siren's paired.

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Daedalan, in the year 567 AF.