The scratch, the itch, the fervour

Carpeted rain, nuance, shades and vines.
Scaling, corruption, sick copper and shading metal.
Rust in the veins that follow outwards to see the sea.
Grime that stained the walls, invisible, unsainted.
The marks that drag on the floor, accompany the chains that flood the sinners.
Senseless.
The will to push, when pull is the motion.
While motion remains silent, forgiveness seems like a notion to be put down.
Apologies, farewells, no one knows the way that we should swing, while carelessness will go on, invisible dreams are out for blood.
What we carry at our backs, represents our will.
Appealing voices seem to show fondness, while kindness is a speck of dust.
The courage to change.
To implement the need of failure.
Chronograph of sadness.
Aberration, convolution and adulation.
Clustered silence and relative sedation.
How to draw, landless, the line that divides and unites while separating common intelligence from indulgence. 
Aperture and shutter, it is appalling, how simple one can get when all bets are lost and uncertainty is closer to hope.
Hatred, the void in the dark, thirst that draws wither-less, in winter for insecticide, equal solstice and equinox, the implementation that follows the disaster that leads…
Neutrality that conducts anarchy.
Anarchy that screams as life and engulfs the shadows of servitude.
Are we puppets?
The chains that rattle, vestiges of broken shards.
Piss and spin the idea of allegation, how can we explain this, with the world's worst kept secret.
Crap on the door, like tapping the vein, as you struggle for meaning.
You will fail to be inspired.
Drop it, the case was filed as a stupid success.
Can you even grasp the grass?
Stay away, crave the embrace.
Scared as symmetric, discombobulated as aligned.
Crave alone, the extinction of sound.
Pick again at dead skin…
Let it bleed.