Upon the first breath of dawn, Leo, you arise as though a resolute daemon pursued by an unholy terror that lurks in your dreams. Fear forces your heart to beat in macabre rhythm, silent dread simmering in the pits of your stomach. Far from the abodes of men must you seek solitude, isolation, for the spirits themselves are wont to haunt you this day. The haloed glow of life that typically surrounds you has grown dim–even in the brilliance of morning, your path is shrouded in shadows.

As the celestial orb of life beholds the dusky curtain of night descend upon the land, your plight will grow evermore acute. The moon will let forth an ominous radiance that will play tricks upon your senses; your shadow will turn into a silent tormentor, morphing into grotesque apparitions when least expected. The nightly whispers of the wind will turn into unintelligible murmurs, each sentence knitting a tale of unspeakable horrors. Take caution, Leo, for this day belongs to dread, to solitude, to morose reflections upon mortality and one’s own fragility. Let it serve as a reminder: there are darker shades to life, labyrinthine layers to our existence that we seldom dare to explore.