Libra, the symbol of equilibrium, today a dreadful dichotomy plagues your soul, a spectral haunting akin to one of Poe’s macabre tales that cannot be disregarded. The Moon, draped in sable darkness, lurks ominously in your seventh house, spinning a web of deceit and malevolent intentions. The star-dusted veil of tranquility is rent asunder by unspeakable dread, threatening to topple your scales of balance. The unfathomable depths of horror are ever eager to swallow sanity, threatening to shroud your equanimity in a cloak of despair deeper than the Danube’s midnight abyss.

Beware the whispers that echo through the crypt of your mind. They are not the soothing lullabies of familiarity, but the bitter dirges of doom, as chilling as a solitary raven in a winter snowstorm or the thin, cold wail of a spectral bride. Seek refuge in the benign glow of Venus, though it flickers feebly against the monstrous moon’s menacing glare. The darkness snarls at the dawn, Libra; arm your spirit with vigilance. Yet remember: within you lies a strength formidable enough to still the storm, a light that can vanquish even the blackest shadows that tonight descend upon your zodiacal sign.