Craving Chaos

Imagination has dried. So frivolous now, how many tears I've cried. 

Me and myself, have yet to see eye to eye. It has been some time.

No material detriment can equate to this perdition.

I have wrecked many hearts, with no granted permission.

Solely searching, and scraping at the sheath of society.

Its beckoning to imprison and dishonour me.

I have permitted no shame, no imbecile to wallow at my bruises.

A dubious charade, of your tailored inclination.

In the game of love, every one loses.