In the grand halls where whispers sway,
Power dances in a silent play,
With every word and cunning glance,
A subtle, timeless, deadly dance.
Ambition cloaked in silken guise,
Wields promises and whispered lies,
In corridors where secrets hide,
A game of thrones played side by side.
The puppeteer with strings unseen,
Guides hearts and minds, a sovereign queen,
In shadows deep, the battles rage,
As history pens another page.
Yet power is a fleeting flame,
An endless chase, a hollow claim,
For in the end, when silence falls,
Only echoes walk the empty halls.