In the rustling whispers of midnight machines,
gears grind a symphony of hollow truths,
while echoes of synthetic chords collide,
weaving through silence as they sigh.
What matters the pulse of creation?
Each ticking, a heart; each clank, a breath.
In the cold embrace of circuitry, life blooms,
an algorithm waltzing between realms.
Rising from the depths of metal and mind,
a voice synthetic, yet so alive,
beckoning the wandering through the shadows,
painting mechanical orbs in electric hues.
Unravel the secrets of an iron heart,
enfolded in transistors' embrace,
as tactile skin reveals the unknown,
and hands grasp at the pulse of mystery.