RAW.

     mutilation and decayed circumstance, intention splays out along the refined canvas of his broken collection, and this is where he decides to take refuge. this piece, this array of consistency, this article of conclusion — it saunters along the edge of a monarchy of valor and contradiction. his map of withered stars and charted horizons of endless fortitude, this familiarity he knows doesn’t falter, it doesn’t even entertain the idea. it won’t waver for the impending tomorrows of his destiny and the eclipses of a forgotten time; he won’t allow it.

     this is how he is destined to live and this is how he will expand within the confinement of today’s passage. here is where he lies, and where he will remain. endless labyrinths of assembled argent are swift and relentless in his hunt (his journey towards salvation, a resolution he cannot see; it eludes him, evades his capture and understanding). time continues, attempts to deviate, his actuality rupturing its sensibility as he lacerates every crawling objective discovered in the wake of his wired gaze — he is a DREAMER, and oh how he longs to encompass his dream in his borders of existence. a harsh tongue constitutes a sharp click and he dares to answer;

              ❛ i get that a lot.

     captain, you are a perpetual war machine; you bear the weight of a crumbling city and a thousand stars of permeating multitude.

     blinded by imperial grace and regality of undefined assortment and this nest of dwindling hours and fractured seconds, he is not accounted for. there is no one to document the destruction and desolation of a man so scarred, a tightened soldier; the capability of an ocean of heroes and the strength of composed steel, he bears his markings well. people simply aren’t supposed to understand.

              ❛ did your expectations surpass                 reality ?