grey metal travels unseen,
There lies a quiet power, silent yet profound,
A stream of thought and trade, sent through the night,
Crossing vast expanses, bridging every distant ground.
In this silent web, no barriers stand tall,
For every hand, each mind, is given place to weave,
The smallest coin, though faint in sound,
Has weight that many never cease to believe.
From the worker’s toil, to the craftsman’s care,
These tiny sparks ignite the flames of shared design,
Not for the few, but for each who dares,
To stake their worth, to cast their line.
The market sings not of grandeur, nor might,
But of the subtle art, where skill earns its keep,
Where the flow of trade, in its quiet flight,
Nurtures dreams that from humble roots, leap.
Through these narrow paths, where silver currents flow,
A new world dawns, not of gold or king’s decree,
But of merit, pure, where all can grow,
Where the promise of effort sets each spirit free.
Here, no gate bars the way, no ancient bloodline reigns,
But the strength of mind and the sweat of brow,
In the quiet march of daily gains,
Where the smallest sum creates the furrowed plow.
And in this quiet revolution, where grey metal plays its part,
The chains of old are loosed, the bonds of birth unbind,
For in the toil of every hand, the fire of a common heart,
The world finds its compass, the measure of its kind.
From every corner, voice and skill are found,
Not for power, but for a place at the table of the free,
Where each step forward, each payment sound,
Echoes the truth that all can rise, by what they strive to be.
CSW
Aug 15, 2024
https://metanet-icu.slack.com/archives/C5131HKFX/p1723701603900189?thread_ts=1723701603.900189&cid=C5131HKFX
https://t.me/CSW_Slack/6621
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