decayed chance
the lost and wayward,
once focused glances
that dance upon
reverie,
the guilty recompense
complete
by woeless stances,
not quite regret
yet,
still earnest 
meaning- 
reflect
you defective beast,
the hope at most,
or least,
an impact
beyond whole recovery
whilst unrequited ego
goes on,
and onward-
no sense left
(nor none
to start with)
of the potent phrases
engaged
as all but ye
recovered to other
stages-
the pedestal valley,
repetitive
of recycled fallacy,
the truest loosed
serum
of doubt engrossing
psyche-
internal intended absorption 
of tales reversed in fortune,
of claims laid before
the oracle
obese
with self importance-
call back
at cost imagined
in
adrenaline lean
so much, so someone
free
enough to screen
catastrophe,
a life, not he, to deem
destructive
from not what else believes,
rather from, the 
thrill the junkie
needs