In halls adorned with gilded light,
The whispers of ambition rise,
They weave through shadows, bold and bright,
In power’s grip, the truth belies.

The chessboard’s set, the players keen,
Each move a step in masked parade,
The power’s play, both seen, unseen,
A subtle game of grand charade.

The promises, like fleeting dreams,
Are cast into the public’s ear,
Yet power’s flow in hidden streams,
Draws close the foe, and keeps them near.

In politics, the power’s might,
A dance that never finds its end,
Through day and dark, through wrong and right,
A ceaseless waltz where none descend.