In halls where whispers weave a tangled thread,
Ambitions cloak in shadows, dark and deep.
Promises like fragile glass are spread,
Yet truth lies buried, silent in its sleep.
The golden tongues that speak of brighter days,
Conceal the greed that festers in their core.
With every handshake, trust begins to fray,
As power’s thirst demands forever more.
Behind the mask of noble, righteous aim,
The corridors of justice bend and sway.
A dance where truth and honor bear no name,
As conscience fades, the night devours the day.
Yet in the hearts of those who long for light,
A spark of hope ignites against the night.
For in the end, when shadows lose their might,
The dawn will rise, and darkness yields to sight.