Who Can We Trust?

It makes me sad when hearts are proud enough
to push their way through life,
numb and paralyzed,
blindly bleeding lies.
If you can walk through every wall,
why do you have two eyes?
Are we dead things of the night?
What if our hearts were
child-like;
Reaching up for help
instead of reaching down inside?
What help would we find?
Is there any love
still alive?