In Self Ruin

In the chasm of mental decay
At the base of the magnet which heaves you below
Is the allegory of day by day abasement

To which one helplessly gives up themselves
To a lure without a face
Its repulsion is only felt amidst longevity
Thence its scale of hideousness is eventually revealed

On the day of realisation
A hall of fame looks from every angle
With portraits of utter self-contempt
Every one of them placed equidistant
Staring in geometric perfection to taunt and to goad
Their so tantalising eyes are no more than marbles