The Siren's call

I do not know from where the cloud came -- a chilling din voice, knowing each name a phantasmagoric display the cheerful crew succumbing to primal sprite the day, soon a blaze, of stormy thickening night (darkened every Sun's ray -- no quaking mind's sense could such own kept fear allay) -- Evil does not immediately convey project foul intention of sudoriferous source -- the ship well on its ill fated course I could not stop her arrant gleam. Recalling too vividly my haunting dream~ such hideous myth, ancient mariners all knew the faint heart of man always prays not true -- with horrid motion increased her terrifying scream, the mermaid, whatever! absent a glimmer of Christian remorse -- sinfully dank and irredeemably lost continued to press into each fevered forehead~ hell's UN-holy, searing Cross -- apparition who never held light within, no vestige of love from first fall her begin; unseen were it not for our own screens of fright, unheard were it not for her victims own blight -- one's own dreadful projections spawning her relentless demon-dance, the Siren's maddening ball, I, alone, of our dozens survived that damning Sea-harlot's soul harvesting squall --