In the grand halls where whispers rule,
Power dances, a shadowed jewel,
Cloaked in promises, veiled in might,
Turning truth to shades of night.

Voices rise, a chorus loud,
Yet silence falls like a heavy shroud,
For in the chambers where decisions rest,
Few hold power, few are blessed.

The stage is set, the actors play,
Their scripts written in yesterday,
While pawns move in a grander scheme,
Power’s promise, a fleeting dream.

And in the end, when curtains close,
What remains, nobody knows,
For power’s dance, a timeless fight,
Leaves the world in day and night.