The Candlestick That Broke My Pride

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The Candlestick That Broke My Pride

I studied charts through many nights,

And traced their curves by screen-lit lights;

Each gain I claimed with swelling cheer,

Till confidence outgrew my fear.

The market seemed a faithful guide,

Its waves familiar as the tide;

I read each signal, line, and sign,

And thought its hidden thoughts were mine.

My victories became my crown,

A robe no loss could ever drown;

I mocked the warnings I once knew,

And trusted more in me than true.

Then came a candle, small and plain,

No darker marked than those that reign;

It stood among the restless sea,

Yet carried fate enough for me.

I saw it form and took my stand,

Certain success was close at hand;

I raised my risk, ignored my plan,

And wagered more than wisdom can.

At first it moved the way I dreamed,

Confirming all that pride esteemed;

But markets keep no oath to men,

And turn the strongest tide again.

That candle stretched against my will,

A silent judge, deliberate still;

Its shadow climbed, its body grew,

And every point declared me through.

The profit that had crowned my name

Departed like a fleeing flame;

The balance fell, the numbers bled,

While stubborn pride refused to tread.

I watched the lesson, sharp and clear,

Unfold through loss I chose not hear;

For charts are neither foe nor friend,

But mirrors where illusions end.

The candle did not seek my fall,

Nor answer some malicious call;

It simply showed what lay inside—

The costly weight of wounded pride.

And though that trade was lost from sight,

Its truth remains with me tonight:

The market’s greatest gift may hide

Within the candlestick that broke my pride.

Written by

Hakena Ivan

A poet lover and a trader

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