In shadowed halls where truth once brightly shone,
The scribes of old, with noble quill and pen,
Defended right, exposed the tyrant’s throne,
And stood as watchmen for the rights of men.

But now a darkness creeps across the page,
Where lies are dressed in garments of the light;
They twist the sacred words of every age,
Call evil good, and good an endless night.

They mock the God who formed the stars above,
Deride the faith that built this nation’s frame;
With venom’d ink, they poison hope and love,
And heap contempt upon our fathers’ name.

The people, once their charge, are now their prey—
Divided, scorned, and fed on bitter lies;
While Constitution’s voice they disobey,
And trample freedoms under feet that rise.

O Press, once guardian of the people’s will,
Now foe to Heaven, to law, and to the free!
You sow the seeds of chaos, strife, and ill,
And call it progress, bold modernity.

Yet light endures though darkness rages long;
The Word of God outlasts the fleeting scroll.
The people wake; the Constitution’s song
Shall ring again, and claim the nation’s soul.

For He who judges nations from on high
Will weigh the press that called the good as vile;
And in that day, the truth shall never die—
The press shall fall; God’s truth shall rule the land.