By JH Sayyar
In marbled halls where justice once held sway,
Now whispers bribe the robes once clothed in right.
The gavel sleeps while truth is led astray,
And darkness mocks the oath once sworn to light.
The poor man pleads, his voice a silent cry,
While tyrants walk with smirks and lifted head.
The law, once blind, now opens just one eye—
For gold it sees, but not the tears we shed.
The sacred bench, where honor ought to live,
Now hosts the show of puppets, scripts rehearsed.
The guilty thrive, the innocent forgive,
As hope grows pale, and justice dies of thirst
O Pakistan, let not your courts decay—
Let truth and law reclaim their rightful way.
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