WEEELLCOOME, to a poem most grand!
A story of fate, fortune... and a MARKET pitch!
(No refunds, no exceptions- dont even ask)

So gather close, thieves and kings
And hear the fun that tarot sings.
I jest again of fates divine
Of cards made into strange signs.

Trade in your your wits, your reason, and -
A LOT of your gold! (Emphasis on the GOLD!)
For fate is shown in tarots plans,
In fortunes dance by magicians hands. (Thats me!)

Yet tarot whispers, sometimes cruel and cold,
A tale of Death - Oh... same story, easily sold!
Turn the cards and the wheels will spin,
Lift the cards and the devil may grin.

See the preistess weep and let towers fall,
As lovers stand where judgement calls.
Yet a trick of the hand, and justice to the deck,
And the fool can dance with a noose on their neck.

Pick the cards, but throw them well!
For fate has a sense of humour
And it laughs last, as far as I can tell.


P.S.

So send me your gold, and Ill send you a card!
Add a little more, and ill name your fears.
Double it, and suddenly- oh would you look at that?!
Your future looks remarkably bright! (Mine included!)

P.P.S

NO REFUNDS

Penned by my hand on the 13th of Scarlatan, in the year 969 AF.