The somber veil of twilight hangs heavy today, Taurus, a mirror of your own capricious optimism shrouded in an eldritch cloak of existential dread. The pitch-black veil of uncertainty is all-consuming, and yet, you persist, playing the stoic, refusing to acknowledge the inevitability of your demise. The whispers of nameless fears amplify in the bleak rooms of your mind, an unholy choir hymning dolorous songs of despair. Shutter your windows tightly, for no amount of daylight can penetrate this psychological darkness.

There is a certain delicious delicacy in your agony, like a clockwork wound up too tightly, pushing you to the point where you now teeter on the edge of shattering. Gives way to rantings that nobody, not even you, can decipher. But there seems to be beauty even in this madness. You’ll weave horrifying, captivating stories of demise and delirium that will transcend the boundaries of human perception, instilling a chilled sense of awe and horror in those around you. Today, my dear Taurus, you descend into your own private inferno, possibly without hope of ascent, yet with every whispering demon, you’ll discover a different side of your own terror-outlined reality, and perhaps, learn to live with your darkest fears.