A Society Doomed Poem by Abdul C

When hands that toil must first request
From idle lords who claim the best
The right to build, the right to grow
Yet yield no fruit, yet reap the glow—

When wealth is won through whispered trades
Not honest craft, but shadowed blades
And those who strive with earnest grace
Are left behind, a losing race—

When laws do not the weak defend
But shield the few who condescend
And truth is bent to serve the throne
While justice stands afraid, alone—

When virtue turns to sacrifice
And greed parades in gold's disguise
Then know, my friend, without a doubt
The world is lost, the flame dies out