Whispering in Dust

A disguise,
Implies,
Residual lies,
With clouded eyes,
For there is a barrier here,
Perhaps it's fear,
Of an unknown,
Or the snake under the stone,
But what is life without chance,
A serious romance,
With a face never seen,
In a pasture so green,
Filled with the flowers of dying light,
As the atoms fill the sky at night,
Dancing on the cusp of blank pages,
Feeling like animals locked in cages,
For we act so proper at times,
But we all have our crimes,
Like the sins we speak,
And the lust we feel at the peak,
For there are monsters among us,
And it's so hard to trust,
Like faces in the dust,
It's all or bust,
In the travesty that is our lives,
So this idea is yours to devise,
As we use these instruments inside,
Leaving thoughts implied,
For there is a lack of honesty today,
How did it ever get this way?