No. 200 | Americana; Oculta

Sophia, phemale magician; You have triumphed yet again over those falling stars...

They have plunged into a see of red, from sea to shining sea.

What is this cost columbia, if it not be the death of your son, our sun?

Why are they, these dybbuks, children of men still afraid to trade in their death for our eternal life?

When is this warning Noora, of the dragon that has collapsed, encircled under its own weight?