In corridors of power,
where shadows often creep,
The hounds of justice wander,
their vigilance they keep.
Yet whispers in the darkness,
tell tales of hidden ties,
Of hunts that serve the mighty, beneath the watchful skies.
With badges bright and gleaming,
they prowl the city’s veins,
But often find their quarry,
in preordained domains.
For those who hold the scepter,
and those who wield the gold,
The hounds become the shepherds,
of secrets never told.
In the chase for truth and honor, where justice should prevail,
The lines are often blurred,
and the righteous paths derail.
Yet hope remains a way to survive,
for those who seek the light,
That one day, hounds of power,
will hunt for what is right.