Cobwebbed Justice
In chambers veiled with smoke and lies,
Where whispered deals and shadows rise,
A silken web, by power spun,
Entangles truth beneath the sun.
The gilded cage of empty laws,
Where justice sleeps, its teeth of gauze,
A puppet show, with strings unseen,
The puppeteers, a poisoned sheen.
They dance on coins, their pockets lined,
With promises they leave behind,
While voices raised in righteous fight,
Are choked by darkness in the night.
The scales of justice, tipped and skewed,
Where innocence is falsely hewed,
The blindfold torn, a hollow sight,
As freedom dies in fading light.
The gears of progress grind to dust,
Where hope and dreams turn into rust,
The poisoned well of wealth untold,
Leaves many parched, their stories cold.
But whispers rise, a growing hum,
Of hearts that beat, no longer numb,
A tapestry of voices brave,
Will weave a truth the shadows crave.
For even in the darkest hour,
A spark can ignite, a cleansing power,
To tear the web, expose the lies,
And build a future where justice cries.
No longer chained by gilded cage,
They'll rise and write a brighter page,
With hands united, hearts ablaze,
To chase away the shadows' maze.
So let the truth, like sunlight shine,
On cobwebbed halls where justice pines,
For in the embers of despair,
A revolution, strong and fair.
Copyright ©
Dr. Padmashree R P
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