109 With one beside, an enemy’s ally in plain sight. He spun a tale, a fabric loose and rife with lies, Veiling the gleaming truth that in the open lies. He charged me with words, ne’er from my lips would part, Not even if shackles bound tight ‘round my heart. Coerced or pressed, such utterances I’d ne’er convey, Though chains constrict and force would have its way. Upon me, thou laid another’s sinful weight, Leaving him free, in a twist of fickle fate. Like a camel unscathed, whilst another bears the brand, Injustice marks me, whilst the guilty stands. If thou dost credit not the liar’s spiteful seed,
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