Idols Of Chagrin

What kind of race, lack of direction 
Just how lunatic, to have a nature so deceit 
Bewail my reverie, a gambol untried 
Lure of carnality and silence in forfeit 
Animals, enslaved to pearls of fictionalized worth 
Creatures, born from caves into simulated mirth 

I'm talking, Idols of Chagrin 
Born of posession, complacement in disguise 

Craving and candid, as to defy the character's fall 
The kisses you drain, pedestrian pedigree 
What's thought is pain might be desire after all