Guess a number, motherfuckers
of the fiat davoisie,
from one to all the atoms in
one billion galaxies,
and guess anew for ev'ry Soul
that you intend to ruin.
The Hero Cycle's spun again:
BIP-39's the Boon.
Each Human Soul can quote the words
of their own culture's songs,
repeat a bit the scripture of
the Faith t'which they belong,
recite a movie line, a poem –
some, Shakespeare and Sun Tzu –
and each can cite some blatant lie
told to their face by you.
Of all the words each Soul recalls,
the lyric and the lore,
a list of words is rather small
that numbers twenty-four,
yet represents an atom in
one billion galaxies –
The Boon: a Key safeguarding each
Soul's Life and Property.
The Bitcoin Blockchain is the Tree,
Its Network is the Creek,
the beastly belly: one's first dip
that winnows out the weak.
And we'll sit 'neath that Axis Tree
to offer Boon to all,
“Your sword and shield: twenty-four words.
Now, watch their empire fall.”
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