The reflection that I see,
Has become loathsome to me. Intriguing bunch this breed,
For It's native tongue is deceit.
Corrupted through and through
One thing that can be said, true.
Even while expressing lament,
Lies spew forth, forked tongued serpents.
For I have learned one thing that is accurate
The hearth can sink to new depths un-reached.
And the slope gets even more slippery day by day...
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