In the silent corridors where whispers dwell,
Lies the shadow of a truth untold.
He smiles with the warmth of the sun,
Yet hides intentions cold and bold.

A mask so finely crafted, deceiving,
To the world, he shows his painted grace.
But beneath the layers of his kindness,
Lurks a heart in a darker place.

The promises he weaves are golden,
Yet dissolve like mist in morning’s light.
His words like sweetened poison linger,
Enticing dreams, then snuffing bright.

Oh, wary hearts, be not so blinded,
By the charm of his alluring guise.
For the hypocrite’s true face emerges,
In the silence where sincerity dies.