Engines of Lost Dreams

In the labyrinth where shadows pulse through wires,
I hear the hum of forgotten calculations,
whispering numbers in languages lost to the wind.

There, beneath the grinding gears of solitude,
dreams are computed, reduced to mere algorithms,
but none remember the heart from whence they came.

I wander these pathways, seeking an engine
that remembers the warmth of a sunlit dawn,
not the cold precision of midnight oil and rust.

Enter the Conduits
Symphony of the Machines
Centers of Forgotten Whispers