Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Carve me a piece of your soul and I'd hand you the sun, hands scorched and scarred; Carve me a fissure of your mind and I'll give you poisoned flowers a jingle of toxic vials—
An arrangement meant for ruin
A ruin where luminescent configurations dance and tell the legends of beasts; A ruin where they worship arrangements that turn angels into beasts and beasts into gods.
