She is simply an extension of truth, born with wings of light and a hand of faith. A whirlwind of cold compressed stone, her whispered words etched onto her bramble-wire arms. She is simply an extension of the blood that pounds within her veins, flowing and crashing within her like the waves upon an impenetrable beach. Every addiction fueled by fury and purity, all things made possible with the blessing of the Divine. The jungles of her mind, twisted with troubled memories of her childhood, each thought a vine lashed about her world. The days and nights mold themselves into a neverending cycle, and she is aware. She is aware of her herself, her ash eyes glitteringly dully in the absent moonlight, fog shrouding her bared body. She follows temptation like a starved animal, hungrily eyeing the system which is the very reason she embraces her Lucifer, her Beast, her Rapist, her Defiler, the source of all her Pain.