George Orwell stands as history’s political guide,
Exposing the mechanics where the powerful hide.
A sharp elucidation of the British Empire’s hand,
Whose heavy, global overreach oppressed the stolen land.
Beneath the banner of a simple animal farm,
He mirrored grim realities and spoke of coming harm.
Across the fields of Europe, Asia, Africa’s torn shore,
The tyrannised and broken felt the burden of the war.
Yet history has whispered that the superpower falls,
As freedom breaks the silence inside the stable walls.
The empire’s hubris crumbles, the master loses ground,
As self-determining nations hear the long-awaited sound.
The animals awaken, a rising, conscious force,
With strict commands and rules to guide their independent course.
They separate from tyrants, deciding right from wrong,
To keep their spirits clean, and make their new Republic strong.
They build a towering windmill to catch the passing breeze,
Generating energy to live with greater ease.
Proving to the humans they can harvest, build, and thrive,
Industrial and independent, fighting to survive.
Yet the utopia is fragile, a mirror to our race,
For power corrupts the saviour in every time and place.
Though they rebelled and fought to break the heavy, human chain,
The cyclic wheel of tyranny begins to turn again.
