They preach of truth with tongues so forked,

With impunity they spout, as confident of not being caught,

And beneath the mask they’re never shy,

To prattle on and tell the lie.

Their promises are flaunted ever so bright,

But fade as if embers from a fire lost to the night,

Behind closed doors their whispers creep,

A serpents hiss, a secret to keep.

Then in the light of day, they feign some grace,

But vitriol spews forth from their distorted face,

A chink is seen, a weakness spied,

They’re telling lies the people cried,

But its too late the damage is done,

So pestilence, war and famine, a mock does run.