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.