A crucifix and white church, chainsaws in the woods, smoke, burning fields, the sunlight hurts my face. Married, birds circling and swaying like little angels in the sky, fleeting glimpse of a wagon wheel creaking, time changes, a cozy nest, a little baby, she's the apple of my eye.
Stalwart man, wealthy, bearded and intelligent, angry eyes and face masking a polite and gentle soul. Door open, the light flooding past the shadows and delicate hallways, and plethora of rooms, a shelter made of gold.
Sideways, medication makes the chained demon be quiet, she is snarling and hissing, foaming at the mouth. She pisses and laughs, eyes sinister, pursed by angels, she'll swallow her crucifix, she'll chew glass till her teeth break like before. Time and time again, she enters through the open doors, she'll never leave.