Not long ago, in a forest of old,
Oracles sat around a spring.

Lychnos tended to the fire for their night,
Oneiropolos slept upon the day,
Not a thing was going astray.
Gnosis was creating wings for flight,
Emphainein was giving stories away,
Right until the dusk gave way.

Midnight arose and all were asleep,
All dreaming of peace within dreams deep,
You could swear not a sound was heard.

Their jobs were complete,
Having given gifts sweet,
Everyone lay quietly,
Yet something stirred.

Something was watching,
Poisonous and plotting,
Each Nymph was still soundly...
Asleep.
Killed by the snake known as Hate.