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The Ninth Sung Poem

I

From envy’s sense to greater sins

decay of baby souls begins,

Lies start to cover little shames,

then bring sophisticated games

Of cunning, conning, slander's crimes,

- which mean more than to be unkind,

Toward office gossips, of all kinds

that slaughter colleagues from behind!

The souls that suffer are unclear

plant childish lies to cover fears:

Unsteady minds, in moody ways,
don’t grasp the words they scream or say.

But habits to deceive in small,
make to get used to cheating goals:

Their challenged looks are just facades,

to hide what's going on inside

Refrain

You've told lies once, repeated it twice,

then pure truth seems not precise

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