The Maker blessed the dust with breath and light,
And carved a path to keep the spirit whole,
A sacred code to navigate the night,
And anchor the caprice of human soul.
Yet eyes turn blind to what is pure and deep,
As wandering feet forsake the ancient shore,
A quiet drift where conscience falls asleep,
And shadows gather at the office door.
The learned mind, by fleeting shadows caught,
Forgets the truth for illusions made of gold,
In webs of theft and vice, the soul is bought,
And honour, piece by piece, is cheaply sold.
They climb the ranks on ladders built of lies,
While networks scheme to elevate the wrong,
Till sacred halls ignore the public cries,
And systemic deceit becomes their song.
Upon this delta, scarred by colonial ghosts,
Where resources are thin and hunger deep,
The desperate compromise is what costs the most,
As stolen promises are all we keep.
Summary of the poem regarding the Cycle of Systemic Decay in the culture of social life:
The Divine equipped humanity with everything essential for survival, tracing a righteous code to guide human well-being across this world and the next. But when the compass is abandoned, direction fades into a cycle of chaos. Educated minds succumb to fleeting illusions, feeding an ambition that turns to smuggling, extortion, and vice. Driven by greed, they believe they can outrun the stigma of their crimes. Instead, criminal networks exploit their hunger, propelling the corrupt into high positions of power. Bribery and malpractice become institutionalised, normal operations within the state, while the public yearns for a just society. In lands like Bangladesh, where colonial scars leave resources scarce against growing needs, moral compromise is mistaken for progress—ultimately fracturing individual integrity and the nation’s future.
