By JH Sayyar
Where justice once in golden halls did reign,
Now shadows stalk where law held its sway;
The coin, not truth, decides both loss and gain,
And virtue weeps in silence, cast away.
The hand that steals still dons a stately glove,
While starving eyes plead near the palace gate;
The cries of need, no statesman hears or loves—
Their hearts grown fat upon the people's fate.
Each promise made is forged in tongues of lies,
The banners bright conceal a festering core;
Yet still beneath these tainted, blackened skies,
The soul of hope resists, and asks for more.
O nation sold to greed’s corrupting breath,
May truth arise and steal the sting from death.
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