Hearken, o ill-fated Cancer, as the midnight bell tolls, a silhouette of malevolent destiny casts its unrelenting pallor upon your fate. The specter of the moon howls in the gloom, its deathly light whispering tales of far-off dread waiting patiently in the chambers of your heart. Spirits, neither wicked nor benevolent, have breached the boundaries of the ether, sinking their spectral claws into the fabric of the mortal plane. Their whispers weave through the grating winds, pressing their icy weight into the exposed flesh of your soul. These ethereal specters, echo the eerie tolling of your heart, which beats in the rhythm of their discordant dirge.

The flickering flame of Pluto’s hand will caress your uncanny dreams, becoming a beacon of haunting visions and echoing hallways that lead to the oblivion of your innermost fears. In the cavernous halls of your sleep, nightmares conspire, painting your dreams with the darksome hue of dread. Do not fall prey to your own obscurity, rather, find courage within your fear itself. It is only through daunting darkness that reflections of inner demons may be vanquished. Seize the day, Cancer, for when night falls and shadows sprawl, may you not succumb to the harrowing whispers that linger within your vulnerable psyche.