Many honored his words
Many cheered his deeds
And many thought him perfect
But no! he wasn't a real saint.
Instead he wore the robs of love
And scented every word of his lips
Yet his whole inside was pure malice
Hatred occupied the corners of his heart.
And revenge was his only shield.
This is what he real was...
A green serpent hinding in grass
A little lice dropped in white rice
Yet he pretended to be a true love
Selecting his words to suit his purpose
And to win thousands on his side
To secure comfort and pity for himself
Because he knew this wouldn't last long
He couldn't pretend beyond his limit
Because I knew and I know his ways
But I wonder why he wasn't real from the start.
© Monica Nalumu