In shadows, journeyed Director Burns,
To eastern realm, with stealth he turns,
To China's halls his path discerned,
For open lines, his aim confirmed.

A bane once wrought by DuPont's hand,
Held-bound in chains, three firms do stand,
To atone their sins, one billion lay,
Of gilded coins, they must repay.

In India's land, a tragedy fell,
Where iron steeds with fire propel,
As three collided, 'midst chaos' roar,
O'er two hundred souls, sail to distant shore.

by Æthelred the Skald

a centaur