At least I hope so

Graceless I am as I yield to my pleasures,
Deriving enjoyment from what others see
As a grand moral weakness, indulging myself
But destroying the woman they see me to be.

I never did ask for the judgment that falls
Here upon me, outright, though my actions have begged
For the harshest chastisements that can be provided
And heard by the devil on which they are pegged.

Prodigious guilt I have felt, it is sure
As the rising each day of the all-lovely sun.
Who would bother to go on, with weight justly placed
If it pressed down for nothing more than short-lived fun?

Rebelliousness or the stretching of liberty,
Broadening of my experience thus,
Or the search for my soul when reality's stripped
Of its stranglehold with such a minimal fuss.

Why do intentions of mine matter so
If the ending result's just exactly the same?
For I have done nothing to hurt those I love
While partaking in this most fantastical game.