In the realm of vlogs, a character arose, Maharlika, with ambition that glows. 

At Marcos’ side, she hoped to bask, In the warmth of power, a lavish task.

But fate had other plans in store, Ambition crushed, she sought for more. 

With bitterness, her heart turned purple, Launching attacks, her words a gurgle.

She spins tales like a master weaver, Concocting stories, a deceiving fever. 

A fly on the palace wall, she claims to be, Yet truth is obscured, for all to see.

Cristy Fermin, watch out in shame, For Maharlika’s craft is not a game. 

Respected journalists, beware her sway, For fakery thrives in her display.

Oh Maharlika, the vlogger queen, In a world of deceit, you reign supreme. But truth will triumph, in the end, And your facade, it will surely bend.