Charubel's image is direct grief: a woman seated on a tombstone, weeping, with no other figures present and no indication of comfort offered or received. The stone itself, ordinarily a marker meant to be visited rather than sat upon, becomes here simply a place to rest while sorrow runs its course, function subordinated entirely to need.
Nothing in the picture suggests the grief is misplaced or excessive; it is presented plainly, without judgment, as an appropriate response to whatever loss the tombstone marks. Scorpio's own long association with death and its aftermath, elsewhere approached through resistance, transformation, or ritual, here simply sits with the fact of it, unmediated by any of the sign's more active responses. Grief, in this image, does not need to be managed or converted into anything else to be legitimate.
The phrasing now in general circulation for this degree follows Dane Rudhyar's 1973 reworking of the 1925 material gathered by Marc Edmund Jones and Elsie Wheeler; that later, copyrighted wording is not reproduced here. Within Venus's decan and Jupiter's closing term (19 to 24 degrees), grace and expansive scope meet a moment the image refuses to hurry past, loss given the time it plainly still requires.