The Womb Of Curses And Spites

Gaze at the black gate of Goddess, so perfect and beautiful. There comes from the black gate a sourceless zephyr, like the idea of a ghost that might have been. It is an ill omen, a wind where there is no wind. It is several moments of cold and dread, then gone. It is the sliver of an arctic zephyr that will wander the world forever. It is an omen, and it grants dread like wishes. It is the zephyr of omen. It gives life and being to the first dreadful thought that may occur in its presence. It inspires dread, and makes the dreaded happen. ~The Harlot Goddess

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