The Reptilians
My name was called three times in the dark,
Echoes bending through the marrow of a tunnel.
Three old men stood before me—
Half-human, half-serpent—
A living triangle carved from shadows.
“From today you will be Cross,” they whispered,
“Bridge between foolishness and wisdom.”
The tunnel lights collapsed into silence.
Their eyes—golden, white, unblinking—
Poured fire into my soul.
They placed in my hand a single card: The Fool.
“Trust this path,” they breathed,
“For madness is the crown of kings.”
Then came Shira—
Tall, blazing, a flame in the shape of woman.
“I rule fame and sex,” she declared,
Her gaze burning holes through destiny.
“I will walk with you to the end.”
In the blink of a serpent’s eye—
We stood inside Clarence House,
Where walls bleed secrets of power.
The Reptilians circled close,
Voices rising like velvet daggers:
“You are now one of us.
You will heal, you will kill.
You will feed upon light and darkness alike.
Without you—
Stars cannot shine.”
The wheel of yin and yang spun silently.
And somewhere in the hush between shadows—
I felt both the crown
and the curse
of becoming.
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