what's trust in a (self)-driven world?

what's worth when a skewed view is all I've held

anchored here I plea for embrace

alone I'm here, with none to give me my place

they've said once and time again

how life is in some master plan

but dreams still speak of death

and life still rots of yesterdays left

cauterized - the part of me manned lust for life

beheaded - the life inside once drove the man alive

inside the faulting dusted hide

beside lies the wretched face of what was my faith

in man in truth in all sacred things but me

and who am I ? a speck of fecal spirit fallen- death

so here I voice a void of spending useless word

and here I lie among? - alone - in waste

torn from the hands of giving men

the rest are born to take and waste our life

the arch does break and fallen are we who dared

to breach the shells of self-deceit and flee the call - subjective retreat

this rhyme of living lies in hindered sight of dreaming right to

living life as if it were real as if we minded

integrity as if all that I showed were to be replaced

with what I really was to be?

before the storm of life killed what (I thought) was truth

I did spit on lesser men who lived to take and make for their own

then life itself looked me in the face and took my faith

is there some chance I'm alone in my empty way?