Who Will Then Stand For The Voiceless
Who will then stand for the people?
When the ones who once did are now for sale,
their voices auctioned to the highest bidder,
their spines traded for suits and silver.
Who is not allergic to bribery?
Who has not tasted the honey of compromise?
The rulers sit on thrones and rule,
while the leaders are gagged, bought, and shelved.
Who will speak for those whose tongues are tied by hunger?
Who will fight for the hands too tired to lift a stone?
We are all inheritors of bloodline sins —
wounds we did not carve, but still bleed from.
We pray for a serving hand from Heaven,
while on earth the rich compound their riches
and the poor compound their sorrows.
The gap widens like a grave.
The world is staged.
A theater of plastic smiles and rehearsed compassion.
Heartlessness is their uniform.
Cruelty is their crest.
Wolves in sheep’s clothing,
preaching heaven with one mouth,
fastening a yoke around your neck with the other,
paving a highway to hell and calling it progress.
Empty promises fall like confetti.
“Money is the root of all evil,” they said.
I thought it was just a proverb to blame.
Now I see it walk, talk, and govern.
Does “No pain, no gain” still hold water?
Or has pain become the only currency we own?
We are mentally colonized.
Our dreams are locked behind glass we cannot break.
We are told not to dream anymore.
So we watch.
We shut our mouths.
Because to speak is to disappear.
And only God knows…
Only God knows who will then stand for the people.
So let the one with eyes, see.
Let the one with a spine, rise.
Before silence becomes our inheritance,
and the people have no one left to stand.
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