A stage lit by promises,
voices rise and fracture the air,
each word weighed heavier than stone.

Tables of negotiation stretch endlessly,
ink and signatures claiming futures
that belong to those unseen,
unheard.

Crowds surge in the square,
their breath a single current of demand,
yet inside the chamber
silence grows thick like dust.

Power bends,
never still,
shifting hands like a restless tide.

It is neither pure nor steady,
but a mirror,
showing us
not only who leads,
but who we have become.