Sonnet: God Improves Things
At last, the day has come for the accursed,
When shift they must, their trade to newer site;
This place is free from all its troubles nursed,
And swiftly God improves the people’s plight.
The tiger’s back into its own forest;
Its monetary roars have seen its end;
They can now move freely, the men honest;
To tyrants, none need bend or condescend!
Corruption will be at its newer ebb;
Maybe, tiger-cubs could now rule the place!
The people will not fall into their web
Of activity, clandestine in base.
The world could be better; oh, what pleasure!
Justice and truth triumphs; oh, what treasure!