Beneath the veil of whispered deceit,
In shadows where untruths discreet.
A weaver spins a web of lies,
Crafting illusions, truth denies.

Silken threads of falsehood bind,
A tapestry of the deceiver's mind.
In the loom of deception's art,
Each falsehood plays its furtive part.

Patterns woven with practiced guise,
Entangling trust in the weaver's eyes.
Yet the fabric, though intricately spun,
Unravels when the day is done.

For honesty, a sturdy loom,
Can mend the tears, dispel the gloom.
In the end, the weaver's guise,
Falls apart, as truth belies.

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