Oil is no mere product this week…
It is a restless giant, rising after three weeks on its knees.

From the depths of $65, Brent rose above $67,
while WTI steadied its breath at $63.

The giant roared with an empty belly.
America’s vaults bled six million barrels,
gasoline and diesel vanished like offerings laid upon an altar…
proof that the world still thirsts for its fire.

But the gods above play their game of chess.
A whisper of peace between Russia and Ukraine
threatened to chain the giant,
to soften its fury with promises of plenty.
Yet Moscow’s iron rain fell harder,
Kyiv stood unbent,
and those chains dissolved into smoke.

Across the seas, another strike…
Washington’s tariffs, 25% sharp as spears,
pierced India for feasting on Russia’s oil.
The giant staggered, roaring,
as trade routes beneath its feet began to shift.

And still, despite this week’s climb, the giant limps…
ten percent of its strength lost in August.
Now all eyes turn to Jackson Hole,
where Jerome Powell speaks like an oracle.
His words, prophecy:
to steady the giant’s march,
or cast it once more into shadow.