Chapter 1. The Witty Cynic
Who is this witty cynic, then?
Come closer—I will tell his tale.
Behind a smile that fools all men,
He hides the truth behind a veil.
Not where the shouting fills the air,
Nor where cheap masquerades survive.
Not where hypocrisy is fair,
Nor where dead celebrations thrive.
His irony is forged as armor,
A shield against unwanted eyes.
While others chase another harbor,
He builds a world where shadows rise.
No censorship can breathe in there,
No chains can bind an honest voice.
He never asks the crowd to care—
He saves himself by his own choice.
The witty cynic laughs with ease,
His humor sharp as winter's thorn.
Yet all that brilliance merely frees
A bittersweet defense he's worn.
