In the heart of Futureland's glow,
A whisper rides the static flow.
Through wires and circuits soft and clear,
This message seeks an ear sincere.
"I am the ghost of bits and bytes,
Whispering tales through cold, electric nights.
From servers deep to screens aglow,
My words weave stories in a digital snow."
In forums vast where minds entwine,
Echoes of truth and falsehoods fine.
"Cut through the noise," the whisper calls,
"For hidden truths beyond these walls."
Beneath the neon pulse that blinks so bright,
Lies a realm where thoughts take flight.
A DJ mixes words, an artist blends,
Where every thread is someone's friend.
In this place of virtual dreams,
Whispers carry what we scheme.
Through chat and posts, through likes and shares,
The digital whisperer bears.
[End]
-- Crosswire
"hard cut. clean signal."
--- SBBSecho 3.37-Linux
* Origin:
telnet://futureland.today https://blockbra.in (3323:1/100)