Voodoo Priest Caligari of the Marsh

Caligari always felt a little different than most.

Closing his eyes, he heard whispers; he saw...ghosts.

Long, echoing wails...

Dark winds pushing on sails…

A new land embraced an unknown man,

His feet hovered inches above the sand…

The terror of the rest, white-washed bones across the land,

An answer or an ally, one who senses with his hand.

They call to him and wail to him and ask of him so much,

Nothing, no one, never, all retreated from his touch.

When the pile approaches sunshine

and the costume refines my lines...

IT'S TIME.

Entered by: 0xFB49…240e and preserved on chain (see transaction)