The Bubble of Iron Thought

 The Bubble of Iron Thought

Upon the stage of trade a dream was set,
That half of mortal toil would melt away,
By engines wrought of code and iron thought,
Exponential in their climb to rule.

The merchants cried: Invest! for gold shall flow!
And princes of the market raised their hands,
Proclaiming future kingdoms built on sand,
While widows spent their mite on fleeting shade.

Yet time, that patient judge of mortal schemes,
Revealed the cruel jest: returns grew dim,
Each labor saved was swallowed by a snare,
As progress waned, a taper losing flame.

What once did promise wings to lift mankind
Now bore but leaden chains of false belief;
The halls of venture echoed hollow songs,
And ruined lords bewailed their vanished gains.

O folly, dressed in algorithms’ guise!
Thou art a bubble, fragile as the dawn,
And when thou burst, the dust of shattered hopes
Did choke the very air of human kind.

So mark this tale: that hubris is a stage,
Where men, in worship of mechanic gods,
Forget the pace of nature’s measured hand,
And write their ruin in their own despair.