In silent corridors where shadows lie,
A whisper echoes, softly it flies.
Words wrapped in silk, intentions unclear,
The face of truth, they never endear.
Beneath the mask, a heart concealed,
Promises spoken, never revealed.
Eyes that sparkle with borrowed light,
Yet in the darkness, they find delight.
Oh, the dance of words so deftly spun,
Under the moon, the charade begun.
A tapestry woven with threads of lies,
A fragile facade that soon complies.
Yet truth awaits, with patient grace,
To strip the mask and embrace the face.
For in the end, all shadows fade,
Leaving the soul, unafraid, unmade.