you've learned of the daemons, the ones who's senseless rapture in what is unimportant leads them farther away from love, and all that they never dare look upon. here are the angels. the ones which love itself defines them, where among that tattered apartment they create a home. their external gifts are close to none, but inside, inside themselves is a masterpiece. substances mixed with love and compassion begin to adorn the child's growing mess. they bejewel holes in the walls and doors with safety, security, and hope. this is why the child lives, for these beings. they are all that she is and the only thing she dare not avoid. these angels are her soul now, as her childhood once owned it long before. together, they begin to build a life independent of the darkness that is slowly leaving the child.
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