In marble halls where echoes dwell,
Decisions cast like ancient spells;
A tapestry of voices rise,
Beneath the dome of clouded skies.

The ink of laws, in shadows spun,
A dance of words, in silence done;
The quill’s embrace, a story told,
Of dreams and fears, both new and old.

Through corridors of whispered thought,
The pulse of change is gently caught;
Beneath the surface, currents flow,
A steady march through ebb and glow.

O, government, with hands unseen,
You weave the fabric of the dream;
In every heart, a silent vow,
To shape the future, here and now.