Battle Lines

It is now a week into the great 2014 financial asset price war with an uneasy truce having broken out after the first bloody squirmish between bull and and bear. Here are the battle lines -

Blood and gore. The mopping up,
Morphine the injured.
Euthanase the undead.
Carts of corpses slow retreat.

Regroup the regiments,
Reload the arms,
Rally with cries from leaders,
Taunt the enemy across the divide.

But hope for calm.
The dead cat's bounced
The supports defended.
Yet still there is no victor.

Fibonacci points mark muster.
General’s missives swirl by mail and meeting
Buy there, sell here, prepare.
If X hits Y, take Z.

The fog of war descends.
Leaves the world outside
With only rumour and supposition
Reported to the desperate

All know battle will be re-served
Cold with despondency
Hot with euphoria
Melted in a stock of fatigue.

The priests preach
To the disillusioned,
Rallying the righteous
Around their gods.

As the bibles of the past recite
“And as it was in '87, '00, '08 the great book says"
The tenets of technicality preach,
"And then in the fifth wave, after the 4th and the A,B,C, do we not descend to hell?”

The fires are lit, the horses shod,
The muskets rammed, the cannon fused.
And yet the calm of data see’s
The battle mists waft aimlessly

The lines are drawn.
Scarlet jackets, defiled.
The blues,
Their own fresh scarlet wounds possess.

But here they stand,
Their future faced,
Knowing each other’s victory
Reflects in enemy eye.

A strip of furrowed mire
All they are from glory.
The command they wait
To join the battle anew.