In halls of power, whispers grow,
The seeds of greed begin to sow,
Promises made in fleeting light,
Lost in darkness, hidden from sight.
Corruption’s grip, a silent force,
Diverts the righteous from their course,
Hands that once held justice true,
Now embrace a tainted hue.
The people’s trust, a fragile glass,
Shattered by those who seek to amass,
Wealth and power, at any cost,
Leaving moral compass lost.
Yet hope remains in hearts so pure,
To cleanse the rot, to seek the cure,
With voices strong, and vision clear,
To cast out shadows, to persevere.