In the twilight realm of shadows, where whispers weave tales of discontent

In the twilight realm of shadows, where whispers weave tales of discontent, Politics, a guilty addiction, ensnares the souls of the desperate and bent. Addicts of power, they wander, their hearts encased in cold steel, Lies and deceit their currency, stealing dreams we once held real. In the dark corridors of influence, where truth fades and shadows extend, Each maneuver, each word, is but a note in their cacophonic blend. They lie, they cheat, they steal, driven by a hunger deep and wild, Sacrificing morals and kin, their minds like an untamed tempest refiled. In the fever of their frenzy, their eyes shine with a vacant light, Feeding their cruel habit, they cast humanity into night. No cure for this affliction, no balm for their tainted souls, They drag us down with them, as they spiral into deeper holes. Through the fog of false promises, the addicts navigate, Chasing illusions of grandeur, weaving a tapestry of fate. Their greed knows no boundaries, their desires a poisoned well, In their quest for dominance, they turn paradise to hell. Yet in this darkness, a whisper of hope still lingers, A dream of a world free from the clutch of corrupted fingers. Where truth can rise like dawn, breaking chains of deceit and gloom, And the human spirit, unshackled, can find its true rhythm in bloom. In the shadows, let us not falter, but seek the light's embrace, For even in the darkest corners, truth leaves a trace. Let us craft a new melody, where honesty and justice blend, In a world where politics heals, and corruption meets its end.