Wrapped up with many tries,
Concealing each other in a dice,
Forging ruthless flies.
Truth stands alone,
In a flattery zone,
Where it is thrown
By the windy blown.
Yet it stands up above,
The restless grove,
Of tantalizing move,
And disquieting rove
It hovers over a platitude,
Of infirm fortitude,
Going through a coveted ingratitude,
As it accost a rebellious latitude.
It resists the tempting allure,
By holding a stately demur,
As it shunning the facile glamour,
With a shielding armour.
Integrity clones with honesty
By slicing the fiction out of the priority,
As it accepts the directions of morality,
By discarding the dubious activity.
Integrity undergoes much hardship,
As it gets battered by the whip,
Still it bears the tedious strip,
With a poised graceful flip