Satoshi is Prometheus,

The thief of fire from on high.

Not the flames of the gods,

But the essence of money itself—

A treasure long guarded

By the bankers, the elite,

Those who shaped the world from their lofty, distant thrones.

Like Prometheus, Satoshi's gift was bold,

An act of defiance,

An elevation of the people.

What was once reserved for rulers,

For those who claimed dominion over value and trade,

Now belongs to all who would grasp it.

In this, we are made like gods—

Free to create, to exchange, to build

In a world without permission,

Bound not by rulers, but by rules.

Few such gifts have so changed the course of humankind.

The printing press freed the word,

Breaking chains of ignorance,

And now this: Bitcoin,

A tool to unchain value itself,

To liberate wealth from control,

And empower the people

To pursue excellence from the ground up,

With tools once reserved for kings.

Satoshi was wise,

Knowing the fate of Prometheus,

Bound for eternity by his boldness.

He left no trace, no figure to chain,

And so the gift remains,

Not bound to a man, but alive in the world.

The fire is ours to tend.

It is on us, now,

To discover its most powerful uses,

To wield its strength with wisdom and care.

This fire demands responsibility—

To enforce the power of the people,

To protect their sovereignty,

To ensure that this flame, once lit,

Can never again be extinguished.

Prometheus gave fire, and humanity rose.

Satoshi gave Bitcoin, and now the rising begins.

Let us be worthy of this gift,

Carrying the light into a future

Where power returns to the individual,

And the people are free to live,

Not as subjects, but as sovereigns.