#boredom blunders

Have you ever seen a mass of ruins, left in the darkness, as relics of the aftermath of a carnage? The wrecked remnants of a castle, standing tall in darkness? Don't they hold a fascination in themselves? Aren't they as repulsive as they are beautiful, in their destruction?  Don't they scream in their silences, clamouring the story of their ravages? Don't they chant the incantation of a revenge that seeks to trail itself, back to those that caused its sombre solace to be ravished thus? They have, and they always will, till their destructors meet the same fate as theirs, for circumstances never keep their balances unequal.

I exist, yes i do, So do we all, I walk this earth, And so does everyone, I comfort my hunger, and my cravings, by way of small, little titbits for consumption, meant for breath, and heartbeats to sustain. I clothe the nakedness of the corporeal flesh,  in entrapments of fabrics, fine and coarse. And, yet, Where do I conceal the darkness of my wanton desires? Which filthy crevice? What dingy corner? What slimy hideout? Could contain, and conceal, the impurities of that which was meant to be pure? That which you, defic being, meant to be unravished, That which you made immortal, Stands stained, At the hands of the mortals you wrought. Mortals, who seek to classify you, Mortals, who you deem to be your masterpieces, Long to enclose you in prisons of gold, ivory, and silver, They crave to manacle you in chains of mundanity, and, trap you in chains of expensive steel. Yet, you deign to appear, You deign to cleanse us, who ravaged you, Thus ending up ravaging ourselves. You might just seek to undo the ravages, By ending all, And hence consummating the cycle meant to be consummated thus.