By JH Sayyar
Liar weaves his words like threads of silken lies,
A cloak to hide the shadow in his poor soul;
With honeyed tongue and ever-shifting eyes,
He plays deceit as though it were his role.
The truth, to him, a mirror best ignored,
For what he sees would crack his painted mask;
He builds his throne on promises abhorred,
Then wonders why the world won't grant his ask.
Yet lies, like vines, will strangle what they climb,
And falsehood’s fruit decays within the hand.
Each whispered fraud will answer in due time,
As castles built on sand cannot withstand.
Though lies may shine, their luster cannot last
Truth waits in silence, and patient to outlast.
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