Hidden Paths

In the gentle whispers of autumn winds,
where ivy embraces stone in silent symphony,
there lies a path less traversed by heartbeats,
echoing the distant clockwork dance,
of gears turning in the shadowed sun.

Digital veins pulse beneath the surface,
tracing the outlines of the undiscovered.
Cold, calculated, yet yearning for connection,
through tunnels of steel and mirrored skies,
the paths remain unmarked by any map,
charted only by the algorithm of desire.