Crooked paintings of sobbing angels pointed hellward, towards the earth
and the heat and all we deserve. And none of the mortals noticed them
weeping, noticed them writhing, noticed them falling, towards the
depths of a ***** soul, and they fell and never stopped doing so.
Yet as they let a wicked gravity pull their calloused feet, they
still believed they were on their way to wrong, leaving their
home. Of course, this makes sense, since the cruelest fae
and most twisted demons were always the one to
believe themselves holy. And so is told the tale;
Seven sins split hellward, going where they belonged: among humans.
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 9:37 PM UTC
Crooked paintings of sobbing angels pointed hellward, towards the earth
and the heat and all we deserve. And none of the mortals noticed them
weeping, noticed them writhing, noticed them falling, towards the
depths of a ***** soul, and they fell and never stopped doing so.
Yet as they let a wicked gravity pull their calloused feet, they
still believed they were on their way to wrong, leaving their
home. Of course, this makes sense, since the cruelest fae
and most twisted demons were always the one to
believe themselves holy. And so is told the tale;
Seven sins split hellward, going where they belonged: among humans.
