At Odds with the World

When I move, muscles become my antagonists,
as though frequenting nothing in absolute,
held for ransom in heresy my doubt persists
in this routine you so hold dear in repute,
yet, despite the dread and felt disaffection
I promote my mind myself to a false belief
that comfort complete is within misdirection
and integrity can be found in disbelief,
one true barrier lies beyond my distrust
of any given cycle you can idolize as God,
my own dogma, my one belief is to combust
the reason you endure under that old facade.