Fret not the Bunds of German knights,
Their yields do tread a path of light.
The path be fraught with tempests crude,
Yet in their wake, no recession brewed.
In trial, a potion Sanofi brews,
For those whom cruel disease pursues.
Though symptoms new it fails to stay,
Yet onward march, it doth delay.
In Gaza dark, a tragic tale,
Six hostages, their faces pale.
Among them, Hersh of far-off land,
For peace, Tel Aviv takes a stand.
