The rancid odor of humanity’s greed Sickens the hearts where virtue still bleeds. Most chase the glint of a monetary maze. Stealing souls in defeat, plotting darkness with praise. I stand apart in 🟠 , solitary, unseen, A shadow adrift in a world cold and keen. Bound to 🟠〰️ code, vast, beyond my control, It cradles my conscience, deep in my soul.

° At the bridge I stand,Where life and death divide. 〰️ ° 🟠 ° whispers hope, While rage ignites inside me. 〰️ ° Few see the ° shadows ° that tread my silent path with me. 〰️

A physical object can't be money. Numbers or pieces of paper can't be money. Money comes from human energy. Only human energy store in data is money.