The Devi of Diminishing Returns

[female] [INTRO — spoken, reverb-drenched, harmonium drone underneath] Somewhere between the temple bell and the ticker tape. She kneels to two altars and calls it devotion. The market opens. The void opens too. [VERSE 1] Marigolds on the trading floor, incense smoke through fluorescent light. I count the coins like counting breath, I count the hours I can't get right. Lakshmi's palm is open wide, gold dust falling from her wrist. Somewhere under all that shine, something hollow. Something missed. [PRE-CHORUS] Portfolio and prayer beads, margin call and mantra bleed. Tell me which one I believe, tell me which one lets me leave. [CHORUS — drop, hard sidechain slam into metalcore riff, alaap, gamaka ornamentation, meend slides, hindustani classical vocals, devotional alaap] I kneel to wealth, I kneel to nothing, both altars burning, both hands full. The ledger's red, the void is patient, I stay right here and call it faithful. Compound the gold, compound the empty, neither one will let me go. I am the devi of diminishing returns, I bow to both and I still don't know. [VERSE 2] They say the void does not compound, they say the void keeps no account. But I keep coming back to kneel where zero equals every amount. My father built his name on debt, my mother built her god on less. I inherited the hunger, I inherited the emptiness. [CHORUS — drop, hard sidechain slam into metalcore riff, alaap, gamaka ornamentation, meend slides, hindustani classical vocals, devotional alaap] I kneel to wealth, I kneel to nothing, both altars burning, both hands full. The ledger's red, the void is patient, I stay right here and call it faithful. Compound the gold, compound the empty, neither one will let me go. I am the devi of diminishing returns, I bow to both and I still don't know. [BRIDGE — fiddle and cello duel, tempo drops then surges, vocal sparse] Lakshmi. Kali. Lakshmi. Kali. Which one keeps the lights on. Which one takes the weight away. [OUTRO — decay, tempo settles into ambiguous drone, spoken layered under sung] Quarterly the numbers turn. Quarterly the incense burns. I never chose. I never will. Tomorrow the market opens still. Tomorrow the void will open too. I'll kneel to both like I always do. Not saved. Not lost. Just accruing.