Into the mist-enraptured forest I traversed

To meet with the solemn crone

I knocked on the wooden door of her cottage

Only for her to bid me entrance.

Around me were a display of charms

Forged from the scales of lizards

And I could hear from them a vast cacophony of flaking scales

As peeled off to behold and exhibit of truths

In which Mortal and Immortal are destined to accept their fated anguish.

I found the crone, who was drinking the fresh blood of the fallen Thamate

Setting down the ritual goblet, she smiled at me

With thin arms unfurled to welcome my embrace

Her lips painted in Thamate's witch-blood.

Upon her embrace, she whispered to me bittersweet truths

Truths that would spread forth obstacles of misery and darkness

Her eyes glowed a vast silver as she spoke these truths to me

"Answer only to the Mother Goddess, and soon,

These truths shall pave for you a path of prosperity."

And little did I know, after hearing these truths

I was enraptured by her Silver Telepsychosis.

And darkness had taken me.