Distilled white rays conjoined
Lovely flowers from trees purloined
Within these four walls, air doesn’t traverse
In this lifeless life, lying isn’t a curse
The animal which is caged
Knows its life is rampaged
Yet it acts exultant to onlookers
A wax house burns it from butchers
A congenial lie it creates for itself
The bitter truth it repels
Lies make up its life
A mirage until it stabbed with a knife
The wax house burns down
Pleasant lies discrowned
The nursery rhyme chimes again
A lesson is learnt by the animal in pain
Lying is a sin, not a curse
In this world, lying in our hearse
We all know who the animal is
It is humanity but Ignorance is bliss
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