The Clock of the Kingdom

Maibam Romiyo
The kingdom’s clock strikes odd hours,
Ticking not for the people but for the powers.
Dawn arrives at midnight, dusk at noon.
All because His Highness said so too soon.

He signs decrees like throwing darts,
Missing the map but wounding hearts.
Each order wrapped in golden lies,
Unveiled as truth beneath weary eyes.

The masses wait for justice due,
But rulers paint the sky in blue,
Look there! A miracle!” they shout,
While stealing the ground from under the crowd.

Policies bloom before they are seeded,
Yet none uplift the ones who need it;
The garden grows with plastic flowers—
Pretty to see, useless in hours.

Oh Authority, with your borrowed shine,
You read your script, not the people's sign.
History laughs from its distant shelf;
A leader who listens only to himself.

And so the clock keeps chiming wrong,
A broken rhythm, a hollow song,
For when decisions ignore the people's voice,
Chaos, not progress, becomes the choice.