Signs of the world ending, come in the most simplest of forms, yet hold the most powerful elements within.

Earth will shatter, breaking as easy as a thin plate of glass, plants withering away, once dark ground is painted in flames of terror and gore. Hell breaks through. All sins, fears, evils, and demons leap about, in the form of the devil.

But as the earth breaks, as does, the heavens of the skies. Goose wings spread longingly through the open air. A fair skin, kind eye, tender being, baring silk linin cloths of hues of blue and tinted bright orange, flows as a flake found only in the coldness, playful, soft gale of snow in the dead of winter.

In rare moments one of heaven and hell ever dare enter the lands of the living. Let alone, at the same time. Those moments are easy to tell. You could painfully laugh for no reason. Sleep peacefully with salty tears staining your face in the middle of the night. Finding death a passion and living a joke.

All things in life, within inches of the fine, fragile, lonesome, pale red, line of a balance.

How could this happen is question that has the most baffling answer. Every so often, a soul will wander the lands of living, fainted with smells of youthful lilies, feather-like skin of white, curly locks of short bourbon red, eyes peaceful yet empty incasing all before them in a deep mindset, and forever unknowing that small being will have to leave this world of ours.

Only out of thin air, unfamiliar fingers will graze the skin of the youngling, leaving small lines of warm, iron incented, sore rosy lines etching through his being.

Unclear noises of giggles and cries leave those frail lips. Echoes of faulty, yet, sweet words reach his ears.

Leaving, the child, unsure if it is, to follow, the warm, immoral, bitter, hazy world of Hell. Or let the mother-like, kind full, noble, salve, elite realm that is known as Heaven.

An endless . . . fruitless . . . nerving . . . pointless battle, which, will never end, even when, the sands of time do.

Angel and Devil fight for soul of child by Giacinto Gimignani

Made around the first half of 17th century

Location of where painted; Rome, Italy

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