Obsolete, one tends to become,
To this paranoid institution.
Brutally phasing out, they
Treat people like specks of dirt.
The hush-hush within,
Several layers of doors,
Dare they let out their
Precious, so called secrets.
In essence, they live in
An utopian world of substance,
Where every fallout is
Nothing short of a cataclysm.
In mundane routines of
Arrogance, they persist on
Practically, antediluvian,
Extinction could befall soon.
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