In blackened abyss where Serpents dwell,
Oil embraces Thor's might, quaking under a spell,
As Midgard braces for a storm from Jotun-sire's well,
The eye of Heimdall keenly watches the prophecy foretell.
A Sterling lingers on Fate's imperfect scale,
Whilst data and numbers through Mimir's well doth sail,
Odin’s ravens whisper of wealth turning pale,
On the BOE's forge, where interest-rate whims prevail.
Hear a tale from the East, where sunlight first gleams,
Of Bharti, a wolf seeking wealth in foreign streams,
Acquiring BT's rune, under Altice's moonbeam,
A formidable alliance, their power supreme.
