The Fabricator

(Picture by Jafar Shameem)

A gilded mask, a polished sheen,
He walks among us, a king unseen.
His deeds of kindness, loudly told,
A symphony of virtue, lo be hold.

He speaks of triumphs, grand and bright,
A beacon shining, for ever-light.
But in the shadows, whispers creep,
Of secrets hidden, crimes deep.

The omissions, the greed untold,
A web of darkness, growing bold.
The lies he weaves, a silken thread,
To hide the truth, the deeds he’d dread.

His heart, a hollow, empty shell,
Where darkness dwells, a wicked spell.
For every virtue, a sin concealed,
A truth denied, a life revealed.

He builds his throne on fragile lies,
A facade of goodness, in disguise.
But time will tell, the truth will rise,
And strip away the gilded guise.

For in the end, the mask will fall,
And expose the darkness, standing tall.
The deeds of darkness, plain to see,
A hollow victory, for all to decree.

(Picture by Jafar Shameem)

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