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."