In the shadows of grand halls, they labor unseen,
Hands calloused by the weight of dreams long deferred.
The rich man’s feast is their daily bread,
Yet they rise each dawn with hope unfurled.

Beneath the gilded towers, they forge their fate,
With sweat and tears, they build and create.
The chains that bind them, invisible yet strong,
But in their hearts burns a revolutionary song.

The whispers of Marx echo in their veins,
Promising a world where justice reigns.
No longer will they toil for another’s gain,
But stand united, breaking every chain.

From the ashes of oppression, they shall rise,
A phoenix reborn under crimson skies.
For every worker’s blood and every tear,
A new dawn of equality draws near.