The NXTTF grim reaper waits with exposed, poisoned talons. Anticipating the ripping of monies from your desperate, clenched hands. As permanent doom sets in, the darkness turns to black, and then you are out. Laid waste in a vast, lunar landscape void of prosperity. Deserted and exiled to a frozen void, the prison of your penniless future.
Stock is falling
Stock is tanking
Doom and gloom. Shreds of rotting flesh. The investor's wallet is food for circling vultures praying on your last penny. Decrepit fingers hanging on the last, smoldering share of NXTTF.
Impending doom foretelling a cataclysmic release of poison investment gasses. A blacked-out sky renders the blind down alleyways of misfortune. It would be better to rot in a grass pasture than to be alive in this wasteland of investor hell.
Decay down to the rotting flesh of a stock chart that was, at one time, still breathing. Distant screams emoting from skyward, falling traders enjoying their last breath before concrete exhausts their crushed dreams. Chains of desperation are rattling within the corpse of your mind. Burning pages of your investment statement that has now been reduced to paper waste.
Creeping crud lays waste to your dim hopes of stock appreciation. Your mind shrivels at the thought of your hard-earned money vaporizing with the false promises of Namaste. A once promising stock trading career crushed by demoralizing missteps and uncalculated moves.
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