The Power of Sound

The days: they pass without a sound
The guards: they come to make their rounds
The food: it comes, but no one eats
The prisoners: they stay within their seats

The warden: he wonders what went wrong
Yet still he thinks “they won’t last long”
They guards still come to make their rounds
But still we wait without a sound

The halls are quiet, the cell doors closed
The corruption conspired is surely exposed
The enemy soon gone to be tried and convicted
The power of sound, with not one finger lifted