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!