“Even shattered wings hold heavenly beauty.”

I don’t know who I am.
I don’t even remember what my name is.
I was lost, confused and broken the day I met them.
My Angels.

To the world, they’re nothing but leather wearing, foul-mouthed bikers, but to me, they are my saviors.
The light at the end of a very dark tunnel.

However, as my memory starts to come back to me in pieces, I fear the darkness ahead. Maybe the reason why I can’t recollect anything is because I don’t want to.

Life is sweet in heaven.

But hell doesn’t want to let me go.