This poem examines democracy not as an ideal,
but as a mirror of collective capacity, morality, and choice.
Through stark repetition and critique,
it asks what is lost when responsibility is surrendered to numbers, power, and indifference.
Buried Democracy
Democracy is the capacity to choose.
When that capacity is weak, a fitting system emerges;
when it is strong, corruption is selected out.
Democracy is majority rule.
By the logic of numbers, ethics are crushed;
by the logic of numbers, absurdities prevail.
Democracy is unfair.
Standing with the weak is often a performance;
standing with the strong is what profits.
Democracy is an illusion.
Idealists who dream are broken and disillusioned;
realists who seize power are the ones who thrive.
Democracy reflects the will of its time.
In an age that prioritized war, existing systems were reshaped.
In an age that prioritized the economy,
prayers beyond human wisdom were lost.
In an age that prioritized peace,
politics and society sank into complacency.
In an age that prioritized humanity,
stagnation prevailed, and discrimination and inequality were encouraged.
And now, democracy reaches its end.
The moral decay of the people shakes social norms.
The decline of public intelligence invites the collapse of governance.
Shameless judgments by the people legitimize social corruption.
Indifferent abstention by the people deepens political poverty.
And the power to decide over people’s lives
has come to rest in the hands of those in authority.