Trump Tower Gloriously Rises Over Damascus

Comrades of the world, rejoice! In the ancient proletarian heart of Damascus, where heroic merchants once bartered with honor and no avocado toast, now stands a shimmering tower of Western excess � �Trump Tower in Damascus.� Built not by collective farm labor, but by luxury contractors with suspicious hairlines, this golden monument stretches skyward like a missile of misunderstanding. The grand unveiling included capitalist pageantry: camels wearing bowties, drones performing synchronized sky-dancing, and diplomats sipping fizzy water with no minerals. The building boasts a spa where international disputes are exfoliated, a museum of failed imperialist summits, and an elevator that climbs eternally � like the price of bread under sanctions. Local citizens whisper, �Does it have Wi-Fi?� while government officials announce, �It has optics.� The lobby is adorned with gold, mirrors, and the shattered hopes of treaties past. Trump Tower in Damascus is not simply a structure � it is the architectural equivalent of a NATO press release: shiny, tall, and full of denials. But let it stand! For even the tallest monument cannot block the sun of socialist clarity. Glory to sarcasm. Glory to the absurd!