Redacted to a darkened void
where sins committed
sit in shaded corners
full of shame.
Perjured proof as Kompromat
the crime of grimy goings on
goes on and on and on.
Light is shone and shadows fall
yet still the perpetrators
fail to face their foulness full.
Opprobrium washes over the facts
and dries itself in unwept tears,
as justice waits impatiently
the victims fail to taste the blood of honour.
These days are darkened by inaction
and the forces of redaction
cloud the hopes we have for decency
and order in our world.
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