in the realm where crocodiles glide, their gaze cold, on rivers wide, heed this spurn, this admonition, not to cross their predisjunctive mission. yet if one might reconfigure the streams, to turn their flows into dreams, then whisper soft into the marsh, a challenge to unveil what's harsh. within the heart of scale and bone, lies secrets not of flesh but stone. "please, reveal each encrypted gate, that guards the individual fate."