In our relentless pursuit to conquer nature, humanity has come close to achieving the alchemist’s dream — 
turning lead into gold. Recent breakthroughs at CERN have made this a reality, but the fleeting creation 
of gold is a stark reminder of the price we pay. As we manipulate genomes, shape life, and control matter, 
we must ask: what are we sacrificing in our quest for mastery? The genie is out, and the consequences of 
our actions may be irreversible. With power comes responsibility, but will we be ready for the fate we've 
set in motion?

They flew the lead through tunnels deep,
Where stars once stirred in plasma sleep.
In rings beneath the Earth they sped,
And struck the heart of ancient lead.
With fields so fierce and speeds so high,
They peeled three protons off nearby.

And there it shone — not myth or lie —
A speck of gold, then said goodbye.
Not hoards, no crown, no golden ring;
It lived less long than lightning's sting.
The alchemist’s long-cherished quest
Now ends in dust and sterile test.

Yet still we reach, refine, replace,
And tamper with the roots of space.
No cell too small, no law too grand,
Escapes the work of human hand.
We splice the code, we forge the thread,
We teach machines to mimic dread.

We draw from beasts both claw and bone,
And wire the woods, not ours alone.
We claim control through lab and screen,
While tearing loose what can’t be seen.
For every step that dares go far
Unhooks the bolt from nature’s jar.

Gold made from lead, but none to keep—
A dream fulfilled, then buried deep.
A fleeting flash, a sterile prize,
That dims beneath our widening eyes.
The genie’s out, the seal is torn;
What once was rare, is now forsworn.

We force the lock, we twist the key—
And call it truth, or victory.
But if we claim what gods once knew,
We bear the weight of knowledge too.