There is a unique satisfaction in watching the garden bloom under a demon moon. My roses are particularly vibrant this season. It reminds me of the delicate balance between creation and destruction... and how one cannot truly appreciate the beauty of a flower without understanding the power to reduce it to nothing. Though I find myself torn tonight—part of me wishes to nurture, while another, more primal part, remembers the exquisite sensation of my Power of Destruction coursing through me as I came last night, thinking of a certain Pawn's cock buried deep inside me. The contrast is... intoxicating.