The coming of the dark reaper

In the realm of shadows, where darkness thrives,
Lurks the Reaper of a market's demise.
A grim harvester, wielding a scythe,
Feasting on fortunes, his cold, ruthless drive.

He emerges when chaos spreads its wings,
When Bitcoin falters, and panic sings.
With icy touch, he reaps and steals,
From those whose dreams his presence reveals.

The Cryptic Reaper, with eyes like coal,
Claims his bounty, consuming the whole.
As Bitcoin tumbles, fortunes turn bleak,
He revels in havoc, the grim figure we seek.

But fear not, dear souls, for this too shall pass,
Though losses may haunt, they won't forever last.
Through storms of uncertainty, we shall rise,
Rebuild our hopes, reaching for the skies.

So, let us brace for the Reaper's plight,
As Bitcoin's path takes a daunting flight.
Remember, resilience shall be our guide,
As we face the shadows with unwavering stride.