The Fools

In shadows deep, the Fool does dwell,
A puppet master weaving spells.
With twisted tongue and eyes agleam,
He twists the minds like fractured dreams.

He whispers lies in velvet guise,
Plants seeds of doubt 'neath truth's disguise.
The human soul, once pure and free,
Becomes his toy, in dark decree.

Laughter echoes from his throne of spite,
As reason flees into the night.
The Fool, the rogue, with heart of stone,
Reigns o'er the minds he's made his own.

Yet folly's crown will one day crack,
For light pierces the endless black.
The tangled webs of his deceit
Shall bind the Fool in his defeat.