On the ground
The winds of change
Reach their questing fingers
Towards the black edifice
Of governance
It stands tall,
Invincible
As the people stare
The wind finds a chink
The structure quivers
And comes apart
A mass of shivers
In a slow dance
Fragments fly
Democracy's ashes
Fill the sky
As the ashes swirl
They rustle this refrain -
When the winds have died
What will remain?
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