Love of life at times requires death

Given angel's wings, where might you fly? In what sweet heaven might you find your love? Unwilling to be bound, where might you move, Lost between the wonder and the why?

Love of life at times requires death

Only night can make us whole again.

Halloween wraps fear in innocence, as though it were a lightly sour sweet. Let terror, then, be turned into a treat.

...A fuel-less flame is nothing but a wraith, However wrought, if unsustained by passion.

Angels are quite ample cause to cry.