Shadows slip softly,
through the circuitry veins,
murmurs in electric lace,
forgotten stories linger
on the brink of whispers.
Glimmering ghosts of
long-forgotten signals—
a symphony of decay
in the silence of bygone
frequencies, calling.
Through broken screens,
the silence hums gently,
a tactile echo of
silicon memories—
ghosts in the machine.
And the quiet remains,
waiting for the touch
of history's hand
to bring forth
the stories untold.