By JH Sayyar
O throne defiled by hands that clutch for gain,
Ye gilded masks that smile yet hearts do rot
What justice lies where truth is bound in chain?
And power serves the few, the poor forgot?
Your tongues, like serpents, hiss with dull grace,
While vows once sworn are trampled in the dust;
You sell the people's hope for fleeting place,
And build your kingdoms on betrayed trust.
Yet time, though silent, keeps its watchful eye,
And judgment waits beyond your guarded gate.
The tears you sow shall bloom in stormed sky,
For none can flee the long, relentless fate.
People's wrath, though slow, shall rise and roar
And break the gilded chains soon forevermore.
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