The sky bled shades unseen,

as whispers revolved in technicolor.

Here, amidst the rusting echoes,

rusted realities were sculpted by

the fading voices of technocrats.

Digital phantoms parade in silence,

their pixels worn on shadowed sleeves.

Illusions are framed in metrics

on walls that breathe out data,

hollow and haunting.

Navigate through the shades,

find more splintered truths at:

Echoes - Residue