In shadows deep where whispers hide,
The hypocrite dons a cloak of pride.
Smiles painted with practiced grace,
Yet truth is lost without a trace.

Promises spoken with honeyed tongue,
Words like a song yet never sung.
In fields of trust, they sow deceit,
A dance of lies beneath their feet.

The mirror reflects a stranger’s face,
A world of masks, no saving grace.
Behind the veil, a hollow plea,
To be more than this hypocrisy.

Yet in the silence of the night,
A whisper calls to seek the light.
To shed the skin of false pretense,
And find the soul’s true recompense.