Upon that land where Christ once trod, Biden hath landed with gentle nod,
In Gaza's midst, a deadly bloom, forebode of escalating doom.
Beneath the heavens, silent plea, for peace 'twixt Hamas and Jewry.
In China, silver streets now shine, from ore's strong pulse through the mine,
Their coffers flow, with metals fair, amidst the world's vitriolic air.
For gold doth rise, as tensions mount, its value an unsteady count.
Amidst the clash of swords uncouth, the vats of oil proclaim the truth,
For Gaza's fires doth cause alarm, in markets fraught with uneasy calm.
'Tis oil and blood, mix'd sanguine flood, that maketh the price of Gaza's blood.
