So I put my trust
in the hands
of man

Relied upon
the knowledge
he possessed

Testing the strength
of his flesh
I put the truth to rest


For what can grow
in the disidents
garden of desert ?

Void of living water . . .
only rock and sand and chert


Certainly not the truth
as it is claimed
raising their rights
to just desserts


Oh , the failings
of feeble man
Whose thirst is etched
on bone

Written with
diamond tipped desires
across their ******* of stone

For what
springs forth
from the wells of hearts ?

Torrents
of premeditated will

The defiling overreaching reasons
are passions fit to ****


Serpentine sin
denudes
the wicked heart

It twists its coils
around the truth ,

Bites !
then as soon arrived
it surly fast departs .


The heart
deceives the sightless mind
planting seeds of doubt

Producing moldy
grains of lies
decayed
within - without

How can one be
true of heart
when everything
falls apart