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I build it,
Brick by crooked brick
Hands stained in chaotic dust
Particles of my own reckless creation
Every choice, a hammer blow
Every thought, a shifting beam
I lay the foundation, without plan
The pulse of impulse
Guiding me toward ruin

My chaos rises tall
A monument to my undoing
Each flaw etched into the walls
The whisper of doubts I ignored
The scaffold sways side to side
Sways under the weight of my excuses
Yes still I climb, higher and higher
Adding layers of cluttered consequences
Adding to a tower bound to fall

It would be quite easier,
Would it not to blame the storm
To call myself the desperate victim
Of all of life's unrelenting winds
But I see the truth in the mirror
For I am the architect
I am the creator and destroyer
Carving labyrinths from the sand
Wondering when they will crumble

Still, I can not stop
My hands itch for the chaos
For the thrill of building something
Something I can not control
Maybe the fear of stillness drives me
Maybe it's the ache of my soul
Craving motion, even if it spirals
I do not know, I only know
I am both prisoner and warden
Turning keys in locks I crafted
Living in a cell that I built
Living on the very edge of life and death
And enjoying it...

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