In towers clad with glass and steel, A city hums with ceaseless zeal, Where dreams like flames in night arise, And fortunes soar to claim the skies. A market teems with fervent cries, Where value mirrors will and strive, In unseen hands the engines purr, Unyielding, bold, and taciturn. Amidst this dance of questing light, An echo stirs to endless fight, A whisper borne on winds of salt: "Who is John Galt?"