In the shadow of martial law, where whispers fade,
The streets are silent, a curfew’s pall.
Dreams once vivid, now in shades,
Of iron grips and freedoms small.

Underneath the watchful eye, despair grows tall,
Minds once free now bound in chains.
Echoes of freedom, a distant call,
In the heart, a lingering pain.

Hearts that yearn for a brighter dawn,
Stifled by decrees and fears.
A world where hope is withdrawn,
And liberty, a memory that sears.

Yet in the silent night, a spark remains,
In dreams, rebellion’s seed is sown.
For even under martial chains,
The human spirit’s light is shown.