Suicide or Martyrdom?

Leave me on this desolate floor
Next to the rotting boards that hide
Cellar secrets and skeleton closets
Leave questions on lips
Answers in locked rooms
The truth is always a slip away
Lies are a dime a dozen
So save up
I am the lone merchant
In this land of free will
Selling you lies and deceit
With no chance of refunds
Or returns
Truth is whatever the world makes it
Be it through fact or fiction
Whatever survives is real