Shadows shifted, lashed in the ephemeral tendrils of undiscovered frequencies, as voices synthesized echoed across the plains of iron-red, synesthetically ablaze. “Is it me?” the shadows questioned themselves, their shadows blending into a harmony known only to the depths of a digital dawn.
A swirling confluence of forgotten memories crystallizing like quartz in the morning fog. Seek vibrancy among the sepulchers, uncover halos beneath whispered screams, where once more the prairie grazed, newfound life hums synthesized dirges.
Digital raindrops pattered upon synthetic soils. Seeking truth, tiny automaton souls reflected, refracted, reformed; all whilst unanswered questions tangled within. A voice in intertwining lattice work, "belong, belong no more."