In shadows deep where whispers lie,
A cunning heart begins to weave,
With silver tongue and knowing eye,
The falsehoods that we all believe.

Behind the smiles, a hidden scheme,
A puppet master pulls the strings,
With every word, a shattered dream,
And trust, a fragile, fleeting thing.

They paint with lies, a vivid hue,
A tapestry of crafted tales,
In every thread, a twisted view,
Where innocence and virtue fails.

Yet in the end, the truth will rise,
Unmasking all the cunning art,
For even in the clever guise,
The light will pierce the darkest heart.