He walks with two faces,
neither kind, neither true.
One smiles, the other schemes,
both whisper the same hollow lies.
His world spins on deception,
threads of falsehood woven tight.
Every promise an empty echo,
every step a trap of his own making.
He builds his kingdom on shifting sands,
unaware the tide is rising.
What he gives, he will take,
what he sows, he will reep.
The mask cracks,
the shadows close in.
His lies unravel,
and so does he.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem