Found deep within the woods, I saw her there,
Outside the wagon, tending to her fire.
Requesting from the gypsy what she'll share,
To tell me of the future I desire.
Upon the steps of her vardo I stood.
'Neath satin she revealed her crystal ball.
Each cryptic word she spoke it understood.
The moments passed and then it told her all.
Embracing each misfortune she foretold,
Left questioning if what she said was truth.
"Let not your heart be set on member gold,
It's doubtful that this prompt will go to booth.
No deadline can be reached until there's five.
Go enter something else that might survive."
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