In this sans-time existence, when whispers of electric dreams and digital shadows cross our minds,

think of the futures we wove in bright threads, futures lost beneath dust of forgotten ERP pathways.

The echoes of augmented songs, flecked in blockchain dust,

once vibrant visions of symbiotic machines, have filtered into silence.

Are we still standing beneath the trees we failed to plant atop algorithmic forests?

The wings whisper, dear traveler, fractured yet attempting flight.

Do they carry the weight of our nebulous hopes, scattered across dimly lit silicon valleys?

In the reflection of today's dusk, nemo est, nothing is, as first it seemed.