Chaos does intrigue me so,
Perhaps because I know it's real
And always in its purest form
It metaphors the way I feel.
Unlovely as it first may sound,
And coarser than an ordered world,
Yet really chaos is precise,
And all things must to it conform.
A storm, the wind a potent fear,
Doth call upon us to submit
Not to logic or design,
But to mayhem's lashing whip.
This madness and disorder may
Take over all my waking thoughts
What then! I fear the day shall come
When I will have no order wrought.
You say society cannot
Exist in chaos, true enough.
But how can men begin to build
Society we're worthy of?
Our efforts all shall be in vain
If we aspire to circumvent
This force by human rhetoric,
Our world by chaos will be rent.