Contractor of Chaos

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...