They speak in tongues of silent dread With silver teeth, they feast on red The body politic, laid bare While gods of gold just sneer and stare The pillars fall with solemn grace In candle courts, they wipe the trace And whispers rule where laws once stood The ink still dries, but not in blood Jackals at the temple gate Feeding on a dying state One by one, the lights go black Democracy won’t make it back They write new laws in secret halls Where justice flinches, silence calls A robed hand shakes, a camera dies And truth becomes what power buys The faithful purge the ones who stray Then kneel and nod and look away A thousand jobs, a million fears All bow beneath the reign of tears Jackals at the temple gate Feeding on a dying state One by one, the lights go black Democracy won’t make it back They wear the mask, they steal the crown With ballots rigged and voices drowned No tanks, no flames, no martial sound— Just silence digging underground The press still prints—but knows the line The judge still rules—but checks the time The will of one, now law for all A slow decay, a quiet fall Jackals at the temple gate Feeding on a dying state One by one, the lights go black And no one dares to take it back “Follow the will… ignore the cost… The game is played… the name is lost…”
