A fortnight
Will be our measure
For those who seek
An idea of independence
Beyond these chambers
Of steel and stone
Lies of beggars
Weeping urchins
And slept scent whores
Cheer on those judged by gavel
They are roped to truths
That they forswears
A fortnight
After this night
We will be our measure
Will it be justice to, whom
Society?, ‘tis not justified
Judgments of weak eyes and mind
They keep them like stones
In their shoes
Weighing them down
With hate, greed and sins of old
Before we squander
Away a chance
and before this
fortnight will reach
a certain climax
we will fill our eyes
with independence