The Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, poor and weary,
Over many an iteration of curious price crushing lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As if The Cartel was gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis Silver Settlement Day," I muttered, "forcing the price to the floor—
Options expiration and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each departed silver investor wrought his ghost on the trade floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow—vainly I had sought to borrow

From my HELOC Loan of sorrow—sorrow for what should be more—

For the crazy silver investor who should be worth much more—

Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each Crime-X price crushing

Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

“’Tis some Plunger entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some Money Printer entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

This it is and nothing more.”

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your mercy I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, while my price was dropped by sapping,

With demand destruction capping, zapping at my retirement store,

That I scarce was sure I heard you”—hence I opened my safe door;—

All my Silver still was there; nothing less;— nothing more.

Deep into the Dark State peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

With each ounce of Silver unbroken, while the Deep State sells crypto tokens,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “No-more?”

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “No-more!”—

Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—

’Tis market forces and nothing more!”

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—

Perched upon a bust of Justice just above my chamber door—

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,

Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—

Tell me how much longer will the price crush be a Cartel chore?”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

An honest answer with one meaning—Silver Falls No More!;

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—

Bird or beast upon the bust of Justice above his chamber door,

With such name as “Nevermore.”

But the Raven, sitting lonely on the bust of Justice, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—

Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have bought before—

On the morrow they will cheat me, as my Hopes have flown before.”

Then the bird said “Nevermore.”

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

“GATA,” said I, “fights for Silver to be retirement stock and store.

Fought with some unhappy bastard who's unmerciful Disaster

Forced a sale so low and plastered that most investors became bored—

Till the dirges of all Stacker Hope that price manipulation bore

Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;

Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,

But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,

Silver will fall, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Tim, and Bill, and Andy, with true tales from the trade floor.

“Saved,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee

Respite—respite the price crush of the Silver, I implore;

Quaff, oh quaff the teachings of GATA. Will the Silver be crushed some more?”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

“Prophet Taylor!” said I, “we fight the evil! —prophesy no doom nor devil!—

Whether Tempter sent to cryptos sell, and Silver be ignored,

Despair yet buy undaunted, with Silver in hand enchanted—

In this home by lost Wealth haunted—tell me truly, I implore—

Will we have fake Silver in our land? —tell me—tell me, I implore!”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

“Prophet Taylor!” said I, “we fight the evil! —prophesy no doom nor devil!—

By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within my lifetime I be saving,

Will The Cartel keep devaluing my precious Silver horde?

Can the Plungers dash the value of my secret Silver horde?”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

“Be that word our sign of parting, honest money!” I shrieked, now starting—

“Get thee back into the fight against The Cartel's evil chore!

Leave one black plume as a token of the lie The Beast hath spoken!

I have loneliness unspoken! —ashamed I'm not worth more!

I have an empty heart that's broken. Will the darkness crush my store?”

Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Justice just above my chamber door;

And the Raven eye is watching—over the demon’s cheating scheming,

And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my Silver that was shattered now is lifting off the floor, and

Shall be stunted—nevermore!