Let my lusts be my ruin, then, since all else is a fake and a mockery.

The line voices a posture of nihilistic defiance: if the world’s ideals, institutions, or promises are experienced as “fake” and “mockery,” the speaker chooses self-destructive appetite as the only remaining “truth.” Read in a Cranean key, it dramatizes the tension between a hunger for transcendence and the despair that follows when transcendence feels unavailable—turning desire into both refuge and weapon. The phrasing (“Let…then”) has the ring of a bitter vow, suggesting not mere indulgence but a conscious surrender to ruin as protest against perceived emptiness.