The same pot that gave birth to the angels created the demons too. And eventually, there came a time where the differences between both races perished. What came out of the pot next shook the whole universe, and turned it into a graveyard of dreams.
He fed himself to the demons he had inside him, every single day. Just to save her, from being consumed by them.
I am that piece of a puzzle, which would never fit in any puzzles out there. I am that sky, which refused to turn blue every morning. I am that bird, which always had broken wings and yet always tried harder to fly. And I am that tunnel, which neither had a beginning nor end but one could always see the light at both the ends.
She was his favorite sin. She was not a habit for him anymore, she was an obsession.
The monster inside him was finally silent. The sword in his hand spoke a thousand stories, while hundreds of voices screamed feebly through the blood dripping from it. The blade of the sword shined like an evening sky and sang a tale of the darkest revenge.
A true romance is not something that happens between the skins. It is something that burns our souls beautifully and leaves us craving to be destroyed even more.