In Orient's land, a force doth rise,
With secret schemes, 'neath shadowed guise;
It tests yon missiles, many a score,
To threaten Taiwan's peaceful shore.
Like unto Exxon, proud and grand,
Who bars the green, with sue-hands' band;
Curbing the vapours, they resist,
Whilst customer's emissions persist.
From bond market, now Citigroup departs,
A quarter-century ends, in scattered parts;
Of local debt, no trade remains,
Silent, the marketplace thus wanes.
