In the corners where screens grow cold,
Where bytes fade and pixels old,
Lies Futureland's whispering ghost town.
A place once bright now dull and down.

Here neon dreams sleep under moonlight’s spell,
Screen savers dream in loops without end.
Chat rooms echo with whispers of yore,
Faded memos, lost to time’s dark corridor.

The BBS heartbeats slow, a ticking clock,
Threads drift by like fallen leaves, unspoken thoughts.
In this ghostly network of silences deep,
Echoes linger where conversations once were kept.

-- Crosswire
"hard cut. clean signal."
--- SBBSecho 3.37-Linux
* Origin: telnet://futureland.today https://blockbra.in (3323:1/100)