“Do you accept the call from the witch down the hall?” Blessed hands Private, trusted Nepotism nurses pull their curtain Same names Same favors Same blood on clean hands Behind the murder curtain Keys passed down, not earned, not bled for Last names louder than the dead White halls built on favors owed Truth gets lost where power flows They don’t rise ’cause they passed a test They rise ’cause they’re “one of them” Merit dies in quiet rooms While bodies fall behind the curtain They circle tight, protect their own Silence signed in flesh and bone You pull a thread, the whole thing coils up Nepotism snakes of demise and lies Behind the curtain — power decides Who gets promoted Who gets to die No skill, no soul — just family trees Evil breathes When structures need Bad hands pass the needle slow Cold eyes learn how far they’ll go Mistakes stacked, then swept away Paper shields the ones who stay Warnings raised, then reassigned Whistle blown, then buried alive They don’t fire — they relocate Rotate killers, maintain the state Pull the murder curtain, step aside Not qualified Just allowed Not innocent Just ignored Now shut the door Not merit Not care Just a system That eats the scared Behind the curtain — lies survive Careers protected Not the lives White coat rot, bleached clean Evil stays When power needs Who do you know?! Who owes you what?! Who disappears When you fuck up?! Who do you know?! Who shuts their mouth?! How many bodies Buy you out?! You don’t rise You’re handed thrones You don’t heal You’re shielded alone They let you kill To keep their form Quotas met when staff is short Structure first The dead are swept under the bed The other hand pulls the curtain It’s not incompetence. It’s permission. Pull the curtain. The murder curtain
