13/12/2023
In the land where fate unfolds its tale,
An irony emerges, a story to unveil.
Elections loom, a pivotal hour,
Yet contestants rise, a curious power.
Landlords stride with wealth in hand,
Business minds, a cunning band.
Clergy whispers, their prayers in tow,
Retired soldiers, a seasoned glow.
They gather, the seekers of the throne,
To decide the fate, a future unknown.
But in this script, a twist profound,
For laymen's destinies, in shadows found.
Landlords with keys to towering doors,
Businessmen counting their monetary scores.
Clergy with convictions, ethereal and divine,
Retired soldiers, guardians of a bygone line.
Yet, as they vie for the scepter's might,
The layman waits in the fading light.
Hopes and dreams in the ballot's cast,
A future bound to the die they cast.
In this paradox, a dance of fate,
The layman's voice, will it resonate?
For in the hands of those who rise,
Rests the power to change or compromise.
Landlords, businessmen, clergy, soldiers old,
Their tales of governance, about to be told.
In this election's echoing decree,
Layman's fate hangs in uncertainty.
Oh, the irony of this electoral stage,
Where diverse players engage.
In the end, the verdict shall unfold,
The layman's destiny, in stories untold.
