Fortune

In the moldy lab, a thousand intricacies on display:
Rusty specimen slides, stained flasks, a lone silver crank.
Relics from a mad scientist who lost her way,
Leaving only a frozen corpse, a half-decayed flank.

A brilliant mind—ahead of the time—or so they say.
Until fantastic experiments overextended the bank,
Impossible to fund the future without pay.
Tears filled the sea as the visionary sank.

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