Alas, I lied, and though I hide my punishment shall be the tide With infinite patience waiting for her vengeance The sharks, they swim in waters grim, their eyes shall feast upon my limbs, the coral with her meek demands shall revenge upon the greedy land and prove with her dead sailor hands that sea shall always win The harbour fuses sea and breeze, she too reflects Poseidon's wheeze, though sailors wounded comprehend her innocence they, too, defend The wooden post I hate the most, his color dark as ash, and mermaids never greet his coast, from fear but not of lash, and never once was there a ship, that did not here whispers of this, and few arrive to simply trade, for naught but death repels mermaids.