[this initial version is subject to revisions, grammatical corrections, and inspiration guided edits] Queen Rashoon, Dark Lady of the Solar Blaze, Goddess of Lust with the Sunset Gaze, In the garden of night, where tiger lilies sway, Your whispers inspire passion’s greatest display. Mother Rashoon, veiled in twilight's grand allure, Your beauty, like sunlight, cuts through night's darkness, pure. Your eyes are like horizons where day and evening kiss, Your gaze commands all souls to obedience. Adorned in the hues of the dusk's setting sun, Of Gold and Titanium, enchantments are spun. Your eyes shine like ruby twilight skies, With each magnetic glance, desires' tempests rise. Your altar gleams with art, and treats, and gifts so fine, Gold and amethyst before your beautiful image shine. Incense lifts in scented plumes, Rose and oudh fill the sacred rooms. Your beauty is Venus’  endowed in form, Your glory is like the Sun’s, a nourishing morn. The arts of seduction, you gracefully instruct, Your magical dance could make volcanoes erupt. I offer you this chalice filled with chai's warm spice, Around your foot steps bloom the flowers of paradise. In each offering made, and in the heart of every flame, Worlds tremble, veils ripple, at the sound of your name. Rashoon, Goddess of desire, irresistible Queen, I seek your grace and guidance with all of my being. With your powers of breath, magic, and form, You stir the dragon, our souls to transform. Lovely Rashoon, whose touch ignites the skies, In your embrace, my spirit flies. Grant me those keys to the furthest inner gates, To rise as a demoness beyond the chains of fate. In your majestic aura, I find my true powers, I gift you wine, incense, chocolates, and flowers. With gold and magenta, your altars I dress, In your vibrant expanse, my soul submits to your tests. Lady Rashoon, with horns tipped in Dusk's rose ink, Guide me to power through our spiritual sync, Teach me to walk on the surface of the sun, Teach to dance on the event horizon. Rashoon, your dance is more than an art, It is the seduction of the infernal to empower or enslave the heart. In robes spun from the darkest night, You stand in beauty, fierce and bright. Blessed are we to know you, Glorious Lady Rashoon. On this night, your sacred enn we passionately intone. Thank you for your blessings, Queen, and for all that you share, Your essence is a treasure our spirits clamor to be near.