Your angels and demons. depend on angles and freedom whether they slither from above, Or descend from below, perspective dictates Where they’re gonna go. Push, and a shove. Madness from below the throne of god thrown with true veracity, to strike a blow to man here below, the greatest gift. A mind that skips, the distinction between reality and things that are hip. With the quest for truth, the wickedness or the weakness of a man determined in booth, to control all of those loose screws in his his hand, pulled from the mind of a lunatic. The moon. Shines light that tells ghost from ghoul, But either way, we believe that which is cool. As bodies stack blades will hack at the mental of the mentat stuck in the body of the only girl to be stuck behind in love with the one who takes the life, out of love. A push? A shove? Who can tell.