/Edited and re-done on July 28, 2010 at 11:30 AM. It's one of my earliest pieces, it's still not that good as this was before I'd done more than read their Wikipedia pages and the fandom still didn't know much about them. Oh well.
Every god should have an angel and every angel should have a god.
Still, she did not mind. Just being his was enough. She knew he loved her, in his twisted, passionate, painful way. She was his, totally, completely.
And he knew she loved him, he never let on his knowledge, but he knew. God always knows. In her crazy, stony, devoted way she loved him and was his. And he will never let her know he is hers as well.
The rains break paper, but most forget to make paper you need water.
And while he was her pain, he was also her painkiller. She was so, so empty and for those who forget what love feels like it is the same as hate. But yet, he filled her emptiness just a bit, just enough. So now she knows it is not hate, for something so wonderful can never be hate. Can it?
Before he was god he was her god, her pain. She would not follow him to the ends of the earth for she knows, for him there is no end. Still she will follow him to no ends and beyond, always following; for an angel is nothing without her god, and she is nothing without her pain.
Peace is never permanent for men can seldom learn from their mistakes. As long as it is this way god will work for peace; and his angel will follow.
Paper flowers grow in the hearts of lonely gods.