Honesty is in short supply. The joke? Well, it was on me. It was always ever on me.
Be still, for the watcher comes, plowing in the wake. Be still for the king comes, challenging every stake. Be still for the angel comes, and it has wings which reek of sulfur. Be still for love comes, and its might may bow you lower.
She played the game, she played it well, and when she stepped out, the walls all fell. Emerged as she, a solid flame, of angel's fire, with devil's wings.