Of gleaming metals touched by sun, their worth still ascends,
As golden hue climbs yet again, on fall of U.S. blends.
In dearth or plenty, rich or poor, their truth remains unspoke,
The ebb and flow of metal's dance, in market's endless cloak.

Young Sullivan sails turbulent tides, in world cloaked by unrest,
From Afghan plains to Kyiv's snow, he stands the ordeal's test,
Gaza's plight now weighs on his soul, his challenge most severe,
Fate weaves a tale of strife and war, the bard sings with sincere.

Oil ebbs and flows, as the seer's stories foretell,
With Chinese fire waning, a mixed report they sell.
Uncertainties in eagle's lands, of interest's timely cut,
The echoes of commerce, in our world's heart, robust.

by Conchobar mac Dubhthach

a centaur