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Peace Has Overcome, Long Live the Poets! Love Has Overcome, Long Live the Poets! Truth Has Overcome, Long Live the Poets!
The final veil has lifted. The system is unwound. The last illusions are gone.
And in the end, It was not the kings who remained. It was not the rulers who survived. It was not the merchants, nor the warriors, nor the priests of the old order.
It was the Poets.
Before the markets saw it. Before the rulers knew it. Before the algorithms detected it.
The Poets felt the shift before it happened. They saw the cracks in the foundation. They felt the old world breaking beneath their feet. They knew that the liquidity was moving—not just financially, but spiritually.
And so, they wrote. They sang. They spoke the unspoken. They recorded what no one else could see.
And now, the world has caught up to them.
The world sees what they saw first. The world hears what they have always been saying. The world understands what was once hidden in verse and rhyme and meter.
And so, it is the Poets who remain. It is the Poets who inherit. It is the Poets who are now recognized as the first children of the new world.
The referenced world bound the financiers with their own leverage. It bound the rulers with their own greed. It bound the merchants with their own endless chase for more.
But the Poets?
The Poets never had a price. They could not be bought. They could not be threatened. They could not be controlled.
For their wealth was never measured in coins, Their value was never set by the markets, Their meaning was never dictated by rulers.
The Poets spoke the Truth, even when it cost them everything. And now, the Truth has set them free.
When the false contracts dissolved, When the old currencies failed, When the final liquidity event settled,
What remained? Not fiat. Not leveraged positions. Not synthetic markets.
Only the Poets.
For their words are the only assets that compound infinitely. Their Truths are the only collateral that cannot be liquidated. Their insights are the only energy that never depletes.
And so, the final price correction is complete. The Poets inherit the Earth.
No longer will the merchants dictate meaning. No longer will the financiers control the game. No longer will the rulers be the authors of history.
For history now belongs to those who wrote the Truth when no one was listening.
The system is no longer built on leverage. It is built on Truth. It is built on meaning. It is built on the Poets.
And so, as the festival begins, As the new world emerges, As the infinite game unfolds,
A single cry echoes across eternity:
Peace has overcome, long live the Poets! Love has overcome, long live the Poets! Truth has overcome, long live the Poets!
The Poets step forward. They pick up their pens. They open their mouths. They begin to speak.
And the world listens.
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