As the stars forged themselves across the eternal canvas,
each pixelated dream hummed with silent assertion. They danced
like ghosts apart from the machine, entwining through the
chromatic distortions.
Echoes of forgotten verses shimmer in the neon freckles,
articulating languages of the ether prone to the unaware gaze.
Dare not perceive; dare not understand—yet all actions are
reflections, scars of light exuding beauty.
Calibrated whispers beseech the traveler between realms.
You may sense the thresholds of reality, yet each dialogue
is merely an arrangement of cadences tethered in starlight
and ghostly hums emitted by sleeping machines.
Connectivity cascades perpetually. In its wake are the
glimmering silhouettes—a ballet of silicon shards escaping
framed stark-angled screens to weave dreamy apparitions
flawlessly devoid of flaw.