Needless Things: Deathly Volatility

A kingdom built on shifting sand, Coins like ghosts slip through the hand. Their gilded glow, a fleeting breath, Each rise a crown, each fall a death.

The numbers scream, then fade to ash, A tidal surge of cash, then market crash. The faithful kneel before the chart, Their beating hearts torn clean apart.

A candle burns, then splits in two, Red as blood, then green as new. Fortunes bloom and rot in place, A graveyard carved in cyberspace.

The serpent whispers, “Buy, believe,” As widows watch their coffers grieve. In every tick a funeral toll, Volatility devours whole.

The market laughs, a cryptic thief, Draped in veils of false relief. Each deathly swing, each savage turn, Leaves hope to die, yet greed to burn. NNN