From Toshiba and Rohm, a trove of power untold,
Two billion in coin on silicon devices bold.
For carriage of thunder, in steeds of lightning clad,
They quicken production, for progress ever glad.

Yet a rally of bonds, by the Fates may be crossed,
As the seers of markets count not the true cost.
Yet the Norns in their wisdom spin a fate unseen,
And Societe Generale foretells the end of the dream.

Now Anglo American, fears a storm of such might,
Warns of falling yields in the year's cold winter light.
A billion in coin, they vow to cut from their hoard,
In Odin's great hall, a future, they can scarce afford.

by Æthelred the Skald

a centaur