From Mouat’s peak, a rumour’s whisper curls,
A twisted tale through hearts and minds it swirls.
Misunderstandings fester, sharp with sting,
A woman’s libel dims the truth’s clear spring.
She didn’t read the emails, blind to fact,
Yet judged with haste, her words a harsh attack.
A messenger, with malice, sought to discredit grace,
His poisoned words cast shadows on the face.
Clouded perceptions, driven fierce by hate,
The mob, from music’s halls, warped justice’s state.
They twisted court’s true aim to wound his name,
Their agenda bent to tarnish truth with shame.
Some townsfolk joined the hate, their zeal misled,
Fueling false tales that wider still were spread.
The mob, with mocking cheers, their deed they crown,
Congratulating blows that struck him down.
One man, with cameras, watches his own kin,
His hidden eyes sow doubt where trust has been.
Defamation bites, its venom cold and deep,
Yet truth seekers rise, their solemn vow to keep.
No victor stands, for all have lost their way,
In rumour’s grasp, no heart can claim the day.
How do you right the wrongs, restore the torn?
Let every voice be heard, from dusk to morn.
No cry too soft, no plea too small to sing,
In truth’s bright light, all voices rise and ring.
Had conversations sparked in early hours,
Hate’s clouded veil might not have gained such powers.
The man, now bleeding, hospitalized, and stitched,
Heals from wounds where lies and fists were pitched.
No one walks free, no wrong escapes its due,
The messenger who deceived must face what he’s spun through.
Accountability, a mirror held to all,
Each heart must answer truth’s unyielding call.
Yet forgiveness blooms where contrite souls repent,
Apologies, like bridges, heal what’s rent.
Sincere, they carve through stone to mend the break,
Rebuilding trust for love and truth’s own sake.
For only truth, with mercy’s gentle hand,
Can set things right and help the heart expand.
From rumour’s spark to clarity’s embrace,
Truth seekers forge a world where wrongs find grace.
Author unknown