In a world ruled by temptation,

There lies a power all men desire—

To wield the Ring of creation,

To summon wealth from nothing,

To shape kingdoms with a whispered command.

Yet, all who grasp at this prize,

Whether kings or kind souls,

Find their hearts twisted,

Corrupted by its weight,

For the power to create without limit

Is the power that consumes the soul.

It cannot be held in virtue,

Nor entrusted to a noble king.

It must be cast into the fire,

Destroyed, so that none may claim it.

And so, like the Fellowship of old,

They gathered in search of freedom—

Warriors and wanderers, wizards and elves.

Each desired the honor,

But saw the truth within a small, pure heart.

It was not strength that would save them,

Not wisdom, nor the sword.

But a quiet soul,

Untouched by greed,

Unbent by the lure of control.

Frodo carried the burden,

For only one who sought no power

Could be trusted to destroy it.

And like Frodo, Bitcoin walks in light—

Not with force, but by being incorruptible.

It is trustless, not by command of trusted men,

But by its own purity

Across nations, from far lands,

They gather—miners, builders, vendors, investors, plebs—

Not to control,

But to support that which needs no trust.

For in this union,

They see that the path to freedom

Lies not in the hands of any ruler,

But in the destruction of power itself.

Bitcoin will cast the ring into fire,

Destroying forever the power of the money printer.