Libra, Aquarius, and Cancers —
three tides pulling at the same restless shore,
each carrying a storm beneath their calm,
a revolution wrapped in fragile skin.

Libra walks a tightrope of silver scales,
balancing the world’s weight in whispered judgment,
poised between love and war,
the endless dance of giving and taking,
a poet’s heart bleeding ink for justice,
their voice a soft storm, seducing the night
with promises of harmony,
but behind the eyes — a clenched fist,
ready to shatter the silence.

Aquarius, the wild electric dreamer,
a rebel with veins running cold wire,
firing lightning into the gray sky of routine,
their mind a kaleidoscope spinning anarchic truth —
they break rules to find freedom,
build new worlds on shattered bones,
a spark to ignite collective awakening,
the outcast who loves harder than most,
a cosmic weaver of change and pain,
laughing in the face of quiet decay.

Cancers — the ocean’s heartbreak,
tides pulling inward, cradling secret wounds,
they carry the weight of unshed tears,
the memory of old grief folded in their skin,
soft warriors of love’s tender battlefield,
homes built in shadows, guarded fiercely,
their touch a balm and a blade,
haunted by ghosts yet refusing to yield,
anchored by roots unseen beneath the storm.

Together, they move like constellations —
Libra’s balance, Aquarius’ fire, Cancer’s depth —
a triptych of struggle and salvation,
each breath a revolution,
each heart a battlefield,
each soul an anthem unsung but loud enough
to break open the heavens.

They are the poets and punks, the dreamers and the healers,
caught in the pull of stars and scars —
a radical love,
a sacred fury,
a whispered prayer on broken streets,
the unfinished song of us all.