Oil the serpent's engine rooms,
Black‑gold evolution looms
From Caracas coups to Kremlin lies,
It buys the guns; it blinds the eyes.
Pipelines like a tyrant’s chain,
Steel veins pumping profit's pain.
Tankers lurk in ghost‑ship night,
Smuggling blood through slick black pipe.
Every deal with a iron‑fist state
Denotes a bribe to abdicate.
Flags still wave, but truths be told,
Who owns your fuel, owns your soul.
Europe slept in a gas‑lit dream,
Warm hands wrapped in Russian scheme.
With taps turned off and winter bite,
They learned the truth of Russian might.
So here’s the sting, no sugared spin:
As long as we use fossil sin,
Warlords grin and nations crawl ....
For oil is King that owns us all.
[email protected]
16 January 2026