You wear a mask of virtue bright,
But hide your truth away from light.
You preach of peace, yet stoke the flame,
And wear no shame to sign your name.
You kneel in temples, hands held high,
Yet cast the poor a callous eye.
You speak of justice, pure and proud,
Then break the weak beneath a shroud.
With silver tongue, you bend the truth,
And shape the world to suit your sleuth.
But lies, though cloaked in holy thread,
Still rot the soul, still count as dead.
You say, “Be kind,” then turn to sneer,
You call for love, but sow in fear.
A double face, a fractured creed,
Your hunger hides beneath good deeds.
So let the mirror not be blind,
Reveal the rot you leave behind.
For words are ash without the deed—
And truth is known by root and seed.
No cloak can shield a heart impure;
The lie will fall, the truth endure.
