Crystal clear faces shatter under the unforgiving weight of rutine.
Feelings once pure and noble, now deranged. Bootprints adorn them, as purpose fades.

Debased; the mud-covered carcass of the man I used to be.

Truths kept locked beneath meat-shaped vaults.
Answers to all and none.
Their absence soothes my mind's ailment,
while sewn shut teeth spoon feed my veins a welcoming dose of cyanide.

Pockmarked stains on the walls and sheets.
Light and comfort are kept wrapped in tight chains;
prisoners of the amorphous grey demons looming over this city of old.

My next step casts its shadow on the moon, for down is the only way up.

And even though hope was convinced to leave by two-faced rascals with no care for our ecosystem, a sketch of its meaning is etched into this crackling skull.
Echolocation is the method of choice then, so as to hope that it's not too late.
That newly formed abominations may one day give its secrets away.

Unseen specters, they'll attack.
Rusted hooks and dull razors as hands, their hunger bleeds through time and space to gnaw at me on this skyscraper's jagged crown.

Instinct prevails, lioness intercedes.
Eyelashes grow older, making way for past to recede.
Huntress will shoot, ambiguous leniency grips harder than flesh.
Wardrobe beckons with open arms, and through esoteric self-combustions, my human suit morphs into hardened armor.

Forgotten vaults open once more, as ghouls roam the crowded intersections of the infinite as neurotransmisions.
****** hatchet made of nails in hand, uniquely hideous. Main mechanism of defense and potent display of skill.

Unmatched. Pieces of half-eaten livers steal the traction off my legs.
Damp, anchored shoes pick away at my frail and wilting compass.
Blank faces embelish the night's tapestry as pupils widen their radars for tutelage.

Now I'm lost.
But the frenzy-filled cleansing continues nonetheless.