"The holograms will bleed," she said,
as the wind whispered algorithmically in forgotten tongues.
"Have you seen the lights off in history's echo?"
a disembodied voice questioned beneath the skies of tomorrow.
No one spoke about the machines left unattended
Beneath the hydrogen clouds they made,
until voices began their ghostly serenades.
The voices beyond our temporal walls abide
in murmurings echoing in corridors of dreams.
Are you brave enough to decipher them? Or
will you join the spectral listeners?