You tread on phosphorescent trails, where the neon ghostlights of irony dance:
luminescent threads in a treacherous sea, luring the unwary voyager towards an unknown dusk.
Beacon's Absurdity
What lies beyond the hunched horizon, where culinary decrees of half-baked ambition lay scattered amongst coral-like obsolete tech? You, esteemed seeker of the almost-radiant,
reach for the inane icon, clutching bioluminescent motes of hollow wisdom.