Trapped we are, In a cycle of lies,
Working away,
Comforted, At morality's price.
Justice we do, In thoughts to our world,
Major business are people,
In rubbles who are curled.
Soon will befall, A man's holy rage,
As is believed by the one's who do,
Monsters penned, In a tranquil cage,
Angels raging, Just like they are meant to.
For many, Humanity is a work of art,
In the workshop of devil,
To pour money in a cart.
Trapped we are, In a cycle of lies,
Working away,
Comforted, At morality's price.
Justice shall happen, Amends shall be made,
Or so we hope,
As we elect a humane doyen,
Virtuous again in a darker shade.
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