Intense silence as she walked in the room. Her black robes trailing...Sister of the Moon. And a black widow spider makes more sound than she. And black moons in those eyes of hers made more sense to me. Heavy persuasion, it was hard to breathe. She was dark at the top of the stairs...she called to me. And so I followed as friends often do. I cared not for love nor money. I think she knew. The people, they still love her, and still they are most cruel. She asked me, "be my sister....
Sister of the Moon."