Dirty Wings


She taught him the art of destruction, they burned in the flames singing their song. Violence and romance, the form of seduction, the contrast that lies between reality and desire. A tarnished angel drawn to the dark side, a saint with the lips of a sinner; grasping the thorns, craving the rose, pouring dirt on top of the coffin. A deviant melody for remedy, he drank her tall black soul; his fingerprints tattoo her hips, enduring the pain she thought she deserved. Thrown into the darkness, her white wings are dirty; claws digging into his spine. A beautiful torture of a murder suicide; they shined in the night like the blade of a knife. Carving horns out of her halo; devouring madness, degenerated queen. Hazel eyes filled with pain, vulnerable and weak; sympathy for the devil, turning nightmares into dreams. She held the gun pressed cold against his skin, three, two, one, the divinity of sin. Sweet as sugar with a heart of ice, he saved her once, she shot him twice. Silence on her lips, the most powerful scream; a bullet in his chest, pronounced dead on the scene.

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