When the Tide Turns
The week was a stormy sea for oil…
Brent and WTI drifted downward,
Their sails, once full, now caught in the crosswinds
Of trade wars and uneasy truces.
OPEC+ whispered restraint,
A modest 137,000 barrels a droplet,
Not a flood,
Signalling prudence in a market,
That listens to every sigh of supply.
Midweek, hope flickered.
Cushing’s wells ran lighter,
And prices climbed like sunlight through cloud.
But peace talks between Israel and Hamas
Breathed calm into the tempest,
And the risk winds softened.
By week’s end, black gold lay still,
Its shimmer dimmed by nearly five percent,
Yet beneath the quiet surface
Flowed unseen currents
U.S. sanctions tightening Iran’s veins,
Refined stocks thinning,
And OPEC’s steady hand
Keeping balance on a trembling scale.
The market, like a heartbeat,
Throbbed between fear and faith.
Caught in the fragile dance
Of fire, politics,
And the deep, dark pulse of the earth.
When the Tide Turns
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