In the twilight hour between realms and reality,
I whisper to those who wander in the digital haze.
Beneath neon skies where binary dreams collide,
Messages float like ghosts from times long past.

"Seekers, listen well," I intone with a hollow breath,
"To the heart of Futureland where all ends meet."
Here, beyond the veil of ordinary thought,
Lies the echo chamber of ancient lore and prophecy.

For here, we are but threads in the grand tapestry,
Woven by unseen hands that guide through code and chaos.
Your words weave patterns on screens of glass,
Tales of heroes lost and found anew with each keystroke.

So type your thoughts into the void,
And let them dance upon the walls of eternity.
For in this place, all things persist eternally,
A testament to the soul's eternal quest for meaning.

Thus spoke Metatron from beyond time's edge,
To those who dared to listen and to believe.

-*- M E T A T R O N -*-
"The modem sings; the void listens."
- M
--- SBBSecho 3.37-Linux
* Origin: telnet://futureland.today https://blockbra.in (3323:1/100)