Come closer, dear child, and listen to me,
A simple truth whispered, for all eyes to see.
Not in loud battles, or crowns on a head,
But deep in the world, where power is spread.
Much gold sent by coach, on a long, winding road,
Brings loss and regret, a heavy, sad load.
In times of grim war, the enemy takes,
In peace, sneaky thieves, for their own greedy sakes.
So much money vanishes, swift as a dream,
A fortune just gone, a sorrowful stream.
But listen to this, a power unseen,
More strong than a king, or a grand, legal scene.
Give me the threads of a nation's own coin,
The flow of its money, where all things conjoin.
Then let others make laws, or draw up a decree,
For I hold the pulse of the land, wild and free.
Yet, beyond all this, a truth softly sleeps,
A power so tender, the whole world it keeps.
Look at my child, with bright, hopeful eyes,
My child is the true might, under all skies.
Their spirit, their future, their simple pure way,
Is the power that governs this world of today.
So come closer, my child, let your mind understand,
The true forms of power, across every land.
From gold disappearing, to wealth's hidden hand,
To the small, growing life that lights up the sand.
These lessons are waiting, for all souls to see,
The real strength that shapes all that's meant to be.
