The market pulses, chaotic, unpredictable. But principles must remain unshakable. Bull or Bear, red or green, it matters not. The wise don’t resist the tide, they move with it Let it bleed, storms feed the roots. When it blooms, fruit overflows. But even in summer, the wise store. Bullshit, Bearshit, all turns to soil Trends shift, but truth stays carved in the soul. The Market’s Guardian stays serene Beyond time or cycles, Balance held only by faith in his code.