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Angels have wings: feathered and white. White in the black, innocence folded into an envelope and sent towards the burning arms of the sun. 

Devils have horns: sharp and pointy. Red in the black, roaming the universe avoiding the cosmic downfalls of the emptiness. This devil has no heart, this devil cannot love. To you, there is only the bare bones of what it takes to be human.

Skin and bones.

Your Earthy eyes and tongue like Mars make you a calm fire -- china skin and a metal brain mean you're immune to it all now, but never before.

Hanging helplessly, suspended between two stars. You are no angel or saint, for blood defines your true demeanour. Ancestors who pulled all the strings to get away with murder -- how will you fare when you are made to do the same?

You've got a mindset born for failure, but no heart means you are destined for even worse.