Work Text:
In the act of neglect over humanity, such a conscience was left out of its substance - over a subway wall, none of them knew better, found all embracing the state of a ludic clutch of a life that was never more existent.
The reality that composed their senses, lost over a humanity that doomed us all - holding no palpable graces over their substantive form that still conceives themselves of a world that was no longer true but whose thorns kept resting over their temple in colors that could only be justifiable bygone the rules of a master that shouldn't be questioned. By its nature, an aforementioned act would cost their common-sense up a mortal life that was lost in between jumbled treads that didn`t carry any meaning but flesh of rules, that soon were written over his own blood.
A blood that held an unsettled grace - covered in shadows that couldn`t be read, only lamented by its silence - reflected in a juvenile soul that still carried life and a two of a kind existence that was molded - due to its redemption up a thankfulness facing the epithetical lead of their humanity over such blood, a red fluid liquid that detained their existence in another world - who shouldn`t have ever collided by definition - but was held dependent on a reality they didn`t own.
Such a juvenile body, in the absence of its domain, a semblance alone - disgrace of its frame. That reflected over the streetlights along with their humanity that attempted to clinch bygone the alike misery of such soul that missed itself over the own flowers that were planted against their throat, watered by whose compelled in the dawn for such furtherance not to begin over his dignity - nevertheless seeing its reflection for so long unexistent, in the futile mirrors of the youthful creation genesis he reawakened unintentionally - growing its roots into him fortunately at first glaze to a new leader over such imagery, to grow as his only- a plebeian raised as a descendant of his own. Growing under the master's leather to reflect an existence the one in question could never accomplish by himself, wishing for the light soul to carry the shadows that he compromised his inherent prickling plasma over for decades.
A soul condemned by existence, contrived by the idea, glazed over a vacancy repealing their innocence of a mentor figure that carried a family able to recompense their living under a misleading grace.
But it was easier to accept the lies than the truth, to embrace the crumbling disgrace returned under such deception than to let the thorns crawl over their mortality, in a wish to embrace silence in their tingling flesh by the shards of such reflections. - Soon, suffering by their election, by distinctions that weren't made earlier to castigate their humanity, for a merely occurrence of encompassing peace found under the master's hand, and haltingly observing - absorbing a reality collapse over a bullet, destroying all of its once alive grace, built by a hypocrisy made out of the loneliness of a futile man.