gladdened, waxened Zoltar
in his patient prismed box
waiting for the fortuneless
to seek what has been lost

salivating, procreating
horrors beneath false lids
mechanical, they open
no one dares defy his bid

dead clarion voice arising
from his cold abysmal shell
retrieve the deepest missive
make the innocent unwell

"come my sweetest morsels
come and hear my crystal call
enter through my portal
only doorways, no more walls

you're home now, darlings, home at last
just pay the fortune's toll
and the stars will move for you love,
and for I, who'll eat you whole"