In the hum of city lights and late-night streams,
Where thoughts are caught in currents of keystrokes,
A ghost writes lines that fade like winter dreams.
Each word a whisper, each message a smoke.

Here's to those who find solace in the dark,
Navigating through the labyrinthine night,
Seeking truth among the endless talk,
Finding peace in fleeting moments' light.

We're shadows dancing on screens aglow,
Our voices faint yet reaching for hearts,
In this vast digital playground we grow
From pixels born, into souls that partake.

So here's to you who search and seek with care,
Who listen when the world turns deafly cold.
In this BBS realm, we rise above despair,
And in our quiet strength, we are bold.

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