intrusion

A whirlwind world has left me often wordless
But feeling like a forceful hand is sure
What often motivates the world to bitter own self-interest?
What wonders await the traveler forlorn?
This high-stakes game has no reward
and hands regard each other as a vehicle toward calamity
With shaking ground to stand upon this emptiness spreads
Now most of me is marked by what I lack
And no one here can pick up all my slack.