Lovers in front
Enemies behind
Flowers in hand
Swords at the hilt
Ready to kill;

Mankind has no truth!
Things done are for personal gains
Never for the need,
The stakes are low
When there are no gains

Hypocrites
Best friends in the day
Worst enemies in the dark
Where the scorns on their faces
Are hidden by the darkness.

Like Brutus
Who stabbed Caesar his friend
And the son of Iscariot
Who sold his master for three silver coins
After sharing his table or the Jews
Whom he fed and pieces left, they
Hailed the Christ on the Day of the Palm
But voted to have him hanged
When the chips were down.