The Soundless Serene Siren of the Comoplitan, Nighttime Figment of the Most Neon Harpy

The serene siren sounds silently into the effervescent night. Her beauty is as yet unquestionable.
The sound of a siren does draw one in. Her voice is beautiful.
Her shimmering hair is softly imbued with a beauty that is wonderful and she has done her make-up so as to turn her worldly wonderment into something just a tad more than sublime. Her eyes, hidden below her make-up, are still somehow yet very beautiful.
She is fashioned after the gods. I look upon her from a distance.
Above, the clouds do rotate about the Earth, and yesterday is a hundred thousand miles away from today in the circle of Earth and Sun.
I return my gaze to the beautiful harpy, to the siren. She plays a most beautiful sound.
She vocalises an emotional state. I smell her sweet scent in the wind. It wafts towards my nose.
I feel the ground vibrate slightly. I listen carefully to the sound as she walks soundlessly ahead of me.
I am drawn towards the siren. And I read my poetry to myself, the poems I wrote of her sounds.
And I know her promises have always been false. She has never told the truth to me. She is a trickster goddess. She is a pitfall that draws one into the darkness of the eternal night.
And my sound intertwines with hers. My mind is weakly subservient. She draws me in as I float towards her. I am mindless and malleable. She sings a song.
And so I read my poetry to myself, and a character in a book I become. And I wonder how I would write the book. I look to the siren, as the distance between us multiplies. Impressionist art is how I would describe the scene. Bright city lights in front of me.
And before me stands the siren, a million miles away from me.
And though she is quite the beauty to behold. And though she is a beautiful woman.
And she is standing there dressed to the nines. And yet, I merely stand there for the moment.
Though not a prostitute, she sells the wares of fantasy unto many, many a man.
I step back for a moment. I step back from this goddess called beauty incarnate.
It is my humility that saves me from her wares. The distance between us increases until she is a thousand miles away.
I have chosen the right path, I think. Trust is more important than any fantasy. And I have never been able to place trust within her most beautiful aeviternal words. And the Earth does rotate around the sun. And yesterday is a million miles away from today. All as time rotates about the solar system of our Sun. And galaxies do break apart and collide to form yet more time anew.
And her beauty increases as we are apart.

I cannot say what I have done today. I cannot speak of yesterday or my plans for tomorrow.

I cannot say what I have done today. I cannot speak of yesterday or my plans for tomorrow.
I cannot speak of work, for even where I am is confidential. I cannot say what I did today, for secrets and their keeping is the basis of my trade.
And in interviews I dig deep, but it is not gold I look for,
I look for darkness and confusion. I look for criminality, for weakness and for guilt.
I peer into the soul of another, and they speak to me of their darkness.
I leave unsettled, for I have uncovered the many hidden paths and secrets of the very devil himself.
This is my gift from God perhaps, for, in the year and a bit that I have practised this art: it is always I who can get the truth, and I must keep it secret, which I willingly do.
And what was once something, which in my childhood, I would see as the most salacious gossip, is boring to me,
Sin and evil have lost their mystique. I store away the information I have gleaned, and with it I have the tools to better assist the secret speaker.
And I do not speak of it. I say not a word, and yet I am 20 years older than I was a year and a bit ago.
And through me that divine thing, access to justice: persists. For if I were not bound to secrecy, if we were not all bound to secrecy in my godforsaken profession, justice would swiftly disappear.
And so, a secular priest, I hear many a confession. Though I do not save the soul, I’m better prepared to save the body and the temporal things that mankind depends upon to survive. Keeper of secrets, silent vault of rock and ashes, lawyer, this is my calling and my vocation. The secular priesthood, the foundation of peace and order.
I cannot say what I have done today… For if I were not a secret keeper, if my profession were not that of the mum men and silent women: you could not speak of a yesterday or at all of your any plans for tomorrow. Indeed, neither would exist at all.

I turn off the light of day...

I return to my hovel little cave,
I turn off the light of day, and yet I sleep, sleep is better yet than life?
For up rises a hero, and beyond the horizon, they wreak hope and happiness,
And down they fall, lower than the villain they've slain,
And I despair, and look across the Atlantic, across the Indian and the Antarctic,
No hero ever seems the exception, nothing but illusion, but mirage.

So I get back to my job, and to time with friends from my University past.
I focus on words, and attacks and defences, on work, work, and work,
I resolve conflicts for my job. It is about solutions, not right and wrong,
And proudly I do my job, for law is what upholds life and living breath.

And yet, over the horizon, just out of sight, I pray to see a hero,
A real one, for once, an actual good person, not the amoral mass of our world.

I get back to work, for work is my life, and hope I subdue, ideology and belief in humanity's exceptionalism are distant now.
Checks and balances I uphold, in this imperfect system circling a second class little sun.
My heroism is amoral. I do not save any lives. I merely assist, and come to another's side,
And in the battle of legal words I empirically fight.

I am not a hero, but an amoral upholder of rights, and fighter for might be and might not be.
I am no hero, though I wish I could see one, perhaps a single good person at a distance, rising up from day and light!
For the politicians, and the celebrated ones... they are never whom they seem.
And quietly I serve my goddess, the law, and softly, I speak on behalf of others...