Libra, the Scales tip ever so delicaciously over the abyss, suggesting an unsettling shift in your usually harmonious existence. The sharp howl of the autumn wind may carry with it beguiling whispers from unseen intercessors, whispers that seem to originate in the lost, murky tunnels of your inner heart. A dread arises, not merely as a flighty specter, but as a tangible presence, weaving its subtle way over your thoughts, delivering you eerily close to an uncanny reality. Your moods might well reflect the rippling colors of a moth’s wing, iridescent in the pallid moonlight, yet fraught with an intoxicating foreboding.

Brood not upon each troubling inference, Libra. Rather, gaze into the spectral woods that frame your path, into the languid shadows which appear to dance and sway with an eerie knowledge of your impending journey. The veiled figures fluttering in the periphery of your consciousness should urge you to explore the grand tapestry of your existence, deconstructing each thread until the awe-bearing pattern of the cosmic loom is unveiled. As Saturn’s heavy hand casts over Venus, the realm of beauty is subtly imbued with the enigmatic. This unsettling undercurrent is not to steer you onto the rocks of despair, but rather to escort you to that undefined point where beauty transcends into the terrible sublime. The potent within the horrid, terrible spaces in between the moments, Libra, is the haunting harmony you are poised to draw forth from the ebon bowels of uncanny, cosmic choir.