狡知の堕天司は世界の終末を語った口先で、次の瞬間には人生の謳歌を諳んずる。花を愛でた指先はそのまま滑って茎を折り、舞踏会を踊った爪先は人間の血と臓物と尊厳の上を闊歩する。その心の奥底に秘めるのは無常の自己愛か、無償の博愛か。

The fallen angel of cunning plays fast and loose with his tongue, condemning the world at one moment, extolling the sanctity of life the next. Watch him run his fingers down the supple stem of a flower, snap it in twain, and waltz across a stage garnished with skydwellers' viscera. Look into the abyss of his heart, and what does one find? A feeling of insecure narcissism, or is it altruistic benevolence?

狡知的堕天司前一刻还在嘴里念叨着世界末日，下一刻又念起了庆贺生命的诗句。爱花的指尖完好无损地滑落断了花茎，舞动的脚尖在人的血液、器官和尊严上踯躅。是无常的自爱，还是隐藏在内心深处的无私的仁慈？