A cunning coldness cures the evil, clears the dark away. like a night full of bright and innocent dreams, we were washed away into a mood of child like purity- purity only felt in the silence of our moonlit midnight. reflections in the square glass show a shadow beneath her eyes, as if she hadn’t experienced the release of sleep once in her life. she drifted as a ghost, walking through the night into the day. she knew, there was within her, the kindest and purest form of a dual soul. the skin of evil, lying delicately amongst the feathers of the only angel in the aether. oh angelic beast, what truth lie behind your cold, empty eyes, what hide there amongst the illusions koilsdatter