He was a sinner. She was a saint.
He was her irrefutable joy. She was his ultimate pain.
He was her unknown cure. She was his worsening disease.
He was pulling her down to hell. She was letting him.
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He was a sinner. She was a saint.
He was her irrefutable joy. She was his ultimate pain.
He was her unknown cure. She was his worsening disease.
He was pulling her down to hell. She was letting him.
She was made of charcoal, he was a watercolour painting
she grew up to haunt him, he would always see her
In stained glass windows
in mosaics
tears in his eyes when he saw her stars in the sky
It was...