Sell your soul to the devil to get the throne,
Never will be I the prejudice, such ignorant drone.
Present is the key, but future is the master,
They can do all they can, but truth they can’t plaster.
It’s easy to join them, those who resist, lions them,
Mischief that they take for their ruler certainly primes them.
How to extract roses from the ashes,
You speak for truth and devilry comes bashes,
And we are just veteran scouts with our sashes,
So tell me Journalist’s Jacket who taps on truth who smashes?
Hypocrisy rules, they won’t declare authoritarianism,
Hiding behind democracy serving unilateralism.
They are afraid to face the mirror, have forgotten easthood,
Open violation of laws tells openly of their beasthood.
Through many good people a few speak to make good look bad,
They want all to look like them, please their persons it’s so sad.
Had they been Christans I would have advised them,
In the name of God, justice would have rejoiced them.
Well aware how they control faith-buttons of innocent,
And now when they are out to a March, same thing’s thin on scent?
So protect dear God journalists in the east to the west,
Truth is bitter to them, they pour in water and hearts bitter taste.
Their stamps of blasphemies and unpatriotic seals,
Is the reason I live in Exile, alone is better than makwidem deals.
I find solace in thoughts that I am powerless indeed,
Not in my control dear God them only thy can defeat.