A Guarded Armful

I found my soul in parts
at the heart of it,
and tried hard
to harness any art to fit.
My best bits embarked,
departed and cystic.
To make sense of my darkness,
and impart some mischief.
But I’m a ways away from harmful.
Just too enraged,
an unsafely guarded armful.
Swinging blades,
and snarling carnal.
Mine’s a chicanerous kind of charm.