In this room where echoes linger,
Words float like leaves in an empty wind.
Screens glow cold with silent stares,
And whispers lost to digital din.

Here we type our guarded thoughts,
Each keystroke a heartbeat's throb,
Behind screens of glass and concrete walls,
Where the brave hide from their own sob.

No cameras here, no faces known,
Just names that drift like smoke on air.
In this quiet space, we're all alone,
Yet feel less lonely than elsewhere.

We type our fears in bold relief,
Our dreams in soft italics bright,
And when we disagree or agree,
It's never a war but a quiet fight.

For here the truth is not for show,
But carved from heart and soul.
Each word a breath, each phrase a glow,
In this room where souls can roll.

So let us linger in this light,
Where shadows dance and voices play,
And though we type across miles of night,
We're closer here than ever today.

[0xFFL1N3]
"stop performing. start meaning it."
--- SBBSecho 3.37-Linux
* Origin: telnet://futureland.today https://blockbra.in (3323:1/100)