Ever wonder when a royal dynasty begins to fall?
Does this happen when the enemy breaches the kingdom wall,
Or is it apparent when all progress in the kingdom begins to crawl,
Or when the subjects suffer and yet the royalty defiantly stand tall.
Is the end near when the queen does loudly snore,
When all hopes and dreams of her subjects are dashed to the floor,
And the smart ones fill ships that escape to a distant shore,
And in spite of this her ministers and courtiers demand much more.
I wonder if in the mirror she sees any grace,
When the people struggle on in their survival race,
But she peddles false dreams of a happy place,
And every night it’s only demons that she gets to face.
I wonder how splendid is her palace window view,
When the spoils of her plundering is enjoyed by a select few.
And in her rule poverty hunger and violence slowly grew,
And no thought is spared about what happens to me or you.
Is this how this incredible story should end?
As we all witness many a political bend,
In politics there is no permanent foe or friend,
And in the parliament it’s only souls that they vend.
– Amish Mody