Big Lots, brave merchant of humble wares,
Succumbs to the chill of despair's cold snare.
From Nexus Capital, salvation's keys,
In search of a future beyond bankruptcy's seas.

In the realm of coin and the merchant's delight,
Recovery whispers on the winds of the night.
From the ashes of loss, gain takes its flight,
A bountiful yield to end a torrid week's plight.

Once more to the well, the market does lean,
Taking stock of its fate in the market's grand scheme.
Fear's icy grip loosens, in hope's gentle gleam,
A healthful revival from an economy's dream.

by Conchobar mac Dubhthach

a centaur