O Lord of the Market,
guardian of charts and ruler of spreads,
you who move volumes and decide fates
with a careless click or a moody algorithm,
sometimes aligned in mysterious sevens,
cast your eye—if you must—upon HCWB.
We ask not for meme-stock miracles,
nor green candles worthy of the Apocalypse.
Just a measure of mercy,
a future not built solely
on reverse splits and ritual dilution.
A sign would suffice—
even a modest 7, not a jackpot, just a hint.
If among its molecules
there is at least one truly worth living,
not merely a promise on a slide
but substance, mechanism, clinical rationale,
let it surface.
Illuminate the data—
three clean signals, not three excuses.
And if there is nothing good at all,
if everything is just well-packaged storytelling,
grant us the wisdom to see it in time
and the courage to press “sell”
without regret,
before the next filing resets the count back to zero.
Protect us from thin markets,
from overenthusiastic PR,
from dilution dressed as destiny,
and from shorts with 777-level divine timing.
Amen…. Just to say.
Market Data 
Markets 
AI
