Upon a May night’s mid arch, the illustrious Seven Sisters

Donned their finest dresses for the season’s starry dance.

They came out to play across the moon’s blue day

And tug upon the Minotaur’s sharp erected horns.

Many brave men have died to best the bull,

Within the confines of his vast labyrinth.

To enter proves an easy task, but once in

Navigation is dire when hedging the center path.

But herein belies the unprepared’s stark surprise;

Though each is star, in truth too few shine.

For to court the Sisters one must be aligned

With the divine light that beacons forth day or night.

A master of the self, is a master of all planes,

Thus any location or terrain transforms as one and the same.

To breach the mazes center is to become your star,

During May’s mighty Sister Dance, as the Minotaur.