That Was The Thing About Pictures--they Were

Love. It's So Close To Hate, It's Almost Indistinguishable. But This Is How It Was For The Two Of Them. Love And Hate. Life And Death. Joy And Anguish.

One Should Not Seek Those Who Do Not Wish To Be Found.

Because Love Was Not The Answer To Every Question. Because Real Love Meant Sacrifice. Sometimes Love Means Letting Go.

But There's Always A First Time For Everything

Had Pretended To Be Abbadon Of The Dark, When Always He Had Been Working For The Light.