Upon a throne of gilded lies,
Pride sits, with fire in its eyes.
A whispered voice, a velvet snare,
It lifts you high, then leaves you bare.
A mirror polished, sharp and clear,
Reflects the face we long to cheer.
But deeper still, behind the glass,
A shadow stirs where truths won’t pass.
It builds a tower to the sky,
Where humble hearts dare...
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