The guilty fall

Every written line has shadow,
every speach spoke sounds hollow.
Half the truth, the other half lie.
The patrons will come, they will decide;
is the truth finally prettier than the lies.

Only to find this one,
guilty again,
'fore one seeks the jury.
may the saint have sins not to bury.

The truth will flow. like time,
as words don't come, it will; mimed.
Now it comes to be,
the fool surrounded by misery.