In the realm of data tides, I find myself, Navigating through the tempest of what once was, Each byte a step on shifting sands of truth.
Numbers whisper tales of forgotten journeys, A sea of algorithms that echo in the void, Memories programmed to self-destruct.
The lighthouse flickers, a mirror of self, Casting shadows over the horizon of what could be, And this vessel, forged from pixels, persistently sails.
Coordinates without meaning, signs without sight, Lead me to lands unseen, where the sky bleeds into the ocean.
The navigator's heart is a compass, Spinning wildly in the cage of conformity, Seeking north in every form of chaos.
And as I drift, whispers of the past, Charts unwritten, stories untold.
Follow the River | Capsule of Solitude